


Surviving Christmas

by xenadragon_xoxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2013, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 23,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenadragon_xoxo/pseuds/xenadragon_xoxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry couldn’t have picked a worse time to propose – the beginning of December, their busiest month, where visiting the Wealseys, Christmas shopping and spending time with Teddy and Andromeda take up majority of their time. Draco isn’t complaining, though. Still, they have to somehow make it through this Christmas alive. Written for 25 Days of Harry and Draco on slythindor100 on LJ. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt used:**   
> **Warning:** Established relationship and fluff galore.  
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for 25 days of Harry and Draco 2013 on I’ve decided to turn use all 25 prompts in a 25-chapter fic that tells a story that spans over 25 days. Enjoy! :D

Draco smiled. It probably wasn’t good for his big-bad-scary-former-Death-Eater image, nor his professional-intimidating-tattoo-artist one, but he couldn’t help it. Draco was smiling so hard it almost hurt. Later on, he would get mad and complain because he was supposed to be the one who did this first, and he would pointedly refuse to agree to this ridiculous idea, but at the moment he just wanted to bask in the magic of it all.  
  
“Do you like it?” Harry asked quietly.  
  
Draco glanced up and saw his boyfriend worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, a nervous habit he’d picked up over the years. The fact that Harry even managed to conceptualise the idea that Draco might dislike this ordeal was astonishing. There was no way Draco was going to hate something like this, even though he did resent being placed into a more feminine position. “I don’t know, Potter,” he said coolly, and his use of Harry’s surname seemed to immediately alleviate the tension in the room, which was odd because just a few years ago, it would have done the opposite. “I mean, it certainly has aesthetic value,” he mused, holding it up to the light. “Perhaps not as much as I do, but a fair amount all the same.”  
  
“Knock it off,” Harry snorted, whacking his shoulder gently. “Come on, you know what I meant. So what do you say?”  
  
“An expression of gratitude would be appropriate, I suppose,” Draco smirked, delighting in the slowly mounting worry he could clearly see on Harry’s face. Merlin, the man was like an open book.  
  
“Not about the gift!” Harry exclaimed, sighing. “I mean, about the question.”  
  
Draco turned back to his present to admire it. It was a simple gold locket fashioned after a Snitch and had a black tourmaline dangling easily off of the top of the chain from which it was suspended. It was probably not a secret at all that Draco loved jewellery, especially ones as well-made and perfectly-crafted as this. Harry, being a photographer, always had an eye for the unusually captivating, Draco included, and he always managed to buy the right gifts or find the best angle to snap a candid photograph of Draco lost in thought. This time, however, Draco barely paid attention to the detail on the locket or the perfectly-shaped gemstone. He was only interested, at least for now, in the caption that was etched neatly along the inside of the locket.  
  
 _Will you marry me?_  
  
Four words. That almost broke the record of the least amount of words it had ever taken to render Draco a helplessly smiling fool (the record holder was, of course, the ever-cliché three-word phrase used to confess affection).  
  
“Draco?” Harry asked, sounding very nervous indeed.  
  
Draco realised that he had been staring at the inscription in the locket for a good minute or so without moving, speaking, or so much as giving Harry any indication of a possible answer. Once more, Draco was surprised that Harry didn’t already know he would accept without a second’s hesitation. There was no reason for him not to, aside from the fact that Harry’s timing was simply awful. It was the first of December, and their holiday season was always extraordinarily hectic. Christmas shopping needed to be done, and suffice to say that Draco usually spent a little too long accomplishing that particular task. There was also plenty of visiting to do, and the entire Weasley clan was unfortunately part of the people they would have to see. Not that Draco disliked them or anything. They were nice, really, and Mrs Weasley treated him very well. Draco could see why Harry was eager to consider them his second family. They were lovely. It was just that getting engaged during visiting season meant being fussed over by Mrs Weasley (and Granger, who Draco had come to enjoy the company of) and being showered with congratulations and gifts at a party the Weasleys were sure to throw. He and Harry also spent about a weekend every December at Malfoy Manor with Draco’s parents. While Draco’s father’s health had declined after his term in Azkaban, his mother was as well as ever and there was no telling what she would say or do about Draco’s engagement. Also, Draco would probably be visiting his own friends as well, and he already knew that they would order him to call it off. They’d never been as supportive of his relationship with Harry as Harry’s friends had been. Also, Teddy and Andromeda always stayed over with them during for a couple weeks each Christmas, and he had no idea how Andromeda would react or how to explain it all to Teddy. Overall, December was a packed month, and Harry couldn’t have picked a worse time.  
  
“Draco?” Harry repeated, and Draco realised he’d spaced out again. “Will you?”  
  
“Your lack of intelligence never fails to surprise me, Potter,” Draco said good-naturedly.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry protested.  
  
“It means yes, of course,” Draco chuckled.   
  
Harry stared at him blankly for several moments. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
“Yes?” Harry repeated. “You will?”  
  
Draco smirked. “Once more, you display your considerable lack of intelligence.” He made a point of glancing at his watch. “Twice in under thirty seconds. This must be a new record.”  
  
“Shut up,” Harry said, but he was grinning from ear to ear. Draco would probably never admit it, but it gave him an incredible amount of joy to see Harry happy. It was odd because Draco had never felt that way about anyone else before. He’d never felt the need to please anyone or make them happy in any way, caring only about his own state of mind. Harry was the exception to that rule. Heck, Harry was the exception to  _all_  rules. “You mean it? You’ll marry me?”  
  
“Thrice now,” Draco warned.  
  
Harry laughed, and before Draco knew what was happening, Harry’d thrown his arms around him enthusiastically and pressed their lips tenderly together. Draco made a noise of approval and tilted his head slightly to get a better angle, wrapping his own arms around Harry’s neck.  
  
“Don’t I get a ring?” Draco asked when they broke apart.  
  
Harry chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?” he said, fishing in his pocket for the ring he’d prepared. “It’s a good thing I love you.”  
  
“Flattery won’t get you out of it,” Draco responded. “So out with it!”  
  
Harry laughed and pulled a small, green velvet box out of his pocket, then held it out to Draco.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Draco demanded. “Get down on one knee and do it properly!”  
  
“Demanding, too,” Harry noted, feigning absent-mindedness, and Draco scowled at him. “Alright, alright,” Harry sighed, getting off the bed and sinking down onto the floor, propping himself up on his left knee. He flipped open the dark green case, revealing a simple silver engagement ring with a diamond embedded in the band, accompanied by intricate patterns that curled outwards from around it, encircling the whole band with delicate, crystalline silver swirls. It wasn’t exactly grand, but it was one of the most beautiful things Draco had ever seen. It didn’t help that the ring was accompanied by the most beautiful man he knew, either. “Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Harry said dramatically, and Draco rolled his eyes for real this time. “Would you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?”  
  
“That’s better,” Draco praised as he drew Harry up into another kiss. Harry slipped the ring onto his finger as he did so, and Draco had to pull away for a moment to admire the way it looked.   
  
“Like it?” Harry questioned.  
  
Draco recognised the genuine, serious nervousness in Harry’s voice and refrained from stating that it was the fourth stupid question of the past five minutes. “I love it,” he said gently, leaning over to kiss Harry again. “Thank you.”  
  
Harry smiled, looking very pleased with himself, and pressed their lips together once more. Draco deepened the kiss, gripping the back of Harry’s neck with right hand, his left wrapping around Harry’s waist. Harry moaned quietly and ran his tongue against Draco’s lower lip, drawing a similar sound from him.  
  
They parted after a while to catch their breath, and Harry’s face was lightly flushed. It wasn’t always easy to make Harry blush audibly – the lucky prick had the kind of colouring designed to hide slight reddening – and Draco took pride in being one of the few people who could.   
  
“You do realise that we’re going to have to tell Mrs Weasley, and she’s going to kick up a fuss and attempt to arrange our whole reception for us?” Harry asked, panting.  
  
“You do realise that Mother will probably insist on a Pureblood wedding?” Draco retaliated.  
  
Harry laughed. “Let’s just cross those bridges when we get to them.”  
  
“My thoughts exactly,” Draco smirked. “Now, where were we?”  
  
 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Draco watched Weasley’s jaw drop in shock and Granger’s mouth slowly turn up in a pleasantly surprised grin. These were the exact reactions he’d been expecting. What he wasn’t sure of was whether Weasley would turn maroon and start yelling or simply pass out. On Draco’s right, holding his hand under the table, Harry looked on anxiously. While Draco couldn’t care less what his own friends thought of their relationship, Harry always found that  _his_  friends’ opinions mattered very much, and Draco respected that, so if Weasley said one negative word he was going to Hex him into oblivion.  
  
Weasley, then, did something that Draco hadn’t expected – he leaped to his feet and rushed across the table, dragging Harry to his feet and shaking him. “That’s bloody fantastic, mate!” he exclaimed, and Harry grinned weakly as Granger got up and rushed forwards to hug him.  
  
Draco chuckled warmly. Again, it wasn’t doing a lot for his persona, but he couldn’t help a nice feeling spreading throughout him whenever he saw Harry happy. It might be a disease. If it was, though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted it cured.  
  
“Congratulations, Draco,” Granger said, startling him out of his reverie which had been spent staring at Harry.  
  
Draco stood up, allowing Granger to pull him into a short hug. “Thank you,” he said graciously.  
  
“Have you told Mom yet?” Weasley was asking Harry.  
  
“No,” Harry responded.  
  
“Are you crazy, mate?” he exclaimed. “She’s going to murder you alive if you don’t tell her soon!”  
  
“I was under the impression that it was impossible to murder someone unless they were alive, Weasley,” Draco commented.  
  
Harry shot him a look. Draco smirked in response until Harry relented and rolled his eyes.  
  
“We have to celebrate!” Granger exclaimed, leaping to her feet again and rushing off in the direction of the kitchen. She emerged minutes later Levitating a large bottle of champagne and four glasses.   
  
“I was saving that,” Weasley protested, but Draco knew he wouldn’t fight too hard. Draco wouldn’t, either, if he was afraid of facing Granger’s wrath.  
  
“And for what occasion?” Granger challenged.  
  
“Something...special...” Weasley trailed off awkwardly.  
  
“Well I think this is special enough!” Granger interrupted, before he could decide on a proper excuse.   
  
Draco smirked smugly. These Gryffindors were too instinctually honest for their own good. Not that he was complaining – reading Harry like an open book was one of his favourite things to do. He could spend hours perusing the expressions flickering across that face, coaxing each one out of him with a word or gesture, and he could spend ages interpreting the different variations of Harry’s scowls and laughs, and he could spend forever just gathering them all into his memory to keep and...  
  
“Here you go, Draco!” Granger said, jogging Draco out of his thoughts again by handing him a glass filled with golden champagne. It was a Muggle type brew, but Draco wasn’t complaining. There were great Muggle things out there, as he’d learned from Harry over the years. Television, cars and Granger were just a few of the many examples. In fact, Draco had first become interested in the tattoo profession when he stumbled on a Muggle salon specialising in the art. He’d been hooked ever since. Harry had definitely been surprised by his sudden interest in it, more so since it involved drawing one’s own blood to form patterns, but to Draco, that was the beauty of it. Using pain to create art – how could anything be more poetic?  
  
Harry still preferred his photography to Draco’s tattoo work, but he’d been supportive and helpful, photographing Draco’s handiwork when asked. Harry had also been extremely interested when Draco decided to get himself a tattoo of a dragon curling around his arm (of course, magical tattoos weren’t immobile, so it tended to move around a bit). It was then that Draco discovered that Harry had a bit of a tattoo kink, which Draco had been eager to take full advantage of.  
  
So really, Draco owed Muggles a lot.  
  
“A toast!” Granger called.  
  
“Cheers,” Weasley said.  
  
They toasted to quite a lot of things that night – to Draco and Harry’s future together, to a happy Christmas, to new beginnings. Draco didn’t remember all of them, but he did remember a lot of sloppy kisses and falling asleep entangled in Harry’s arms awkwardly on the sofa at home because they were too lazy to get up the stairs to their room. He couldn’t ask for anything more.  
  
 _To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Every year, when they set up the Christmas tree, Draco and Harry always had a slight argument about the positions and colours of the ornaments they wanted to put up. The debate was almost never verbal, instead performed by determinedly removing and replacing ornaments put on by the other person. They could never come to an agreement as to whose favourite ornament got prime placing and what colour should dominate their tree. In the end, the compromise was always to stuff the tree with a ridiculous amount of different coloured ornaments, packed tightly together in some places and sparsely in others, until it didn’t quite look like a tree, instead appearing more like a child’s painting brought to life.  
  
If Draco thought things would be different this year because they were engaged, he was most definitely wrong. Not that he minded – no matter how much he denied it, there was something delightfully domestic about decorating a Christmas tree together with Harry, and he loved every second of it, although they had silent disagreements throughout. It was a Christmas tradition, and he wasn’t planning on breaking it any time soon.  
  
“At this rate, we’ll never finish up,” Harry said sourly as he removed Draco’s bright green ornament for the sixth consecutive time, replacing it with his disgustingly Gryffindor-ish red one.  
  
“It isn’t my fault,” Draco shot back.  
  
“What are you implying?” Harry snapped.  
  
“Nothing,” Draco smirked. “What did you think I was implying?”  
  
Harry fixed him with a suspicious gaze before shrugging and focusing his attention on rearranging some of Draco’s other ornaments on the tree. There was one, however, that remained untouched. Draco had stolen it from his parents at a young age and hung it up in his room whenever he was upset to make him feel as though Christmas was there and everything was alright. It had hung in his room for most of his seventh year Christmas, which was when he felt most alone. Draco was extremely grateful that it was kept sacred and Harry intentionally refrained from moving it. Despite their constant rivalry, Draco knew Harry would never do anything to hurt his feelings. Not intentionally, at least; but when you had a dense, ignorant, oblivious prat like Harry for a boyfriend, you had to get used to him being a bit of an idiot at times.  
  
“Perhaps I was implying that you waste far too much time putting your horrible red and gold things all over the tree,” Draco said after a moment’s silence.  
  
Harry glanced up, glaring. “ _I_  waste too much time?” he demanded. “Who’s the one who always  _insists_  on taking down everything I put up?”  
  
“That would be you,” Draco replied.  
  
“And you,” Harry snapped. “Don’t act all innocent. You know it won’t work.”  
  
“I haven’t the faintest what you’re talking about,” Draco sniffed. “Unless you’re referring to those awful-looking things you’re putting on the tree right about now –”   
  
He didn’t manage to finish his sentence, because Harry had tackled him to the floor in a burst of half-frustrated, half-amused energy, knocking the wind out of him.  
  
“For fuck’s sake,” Draco said, struggling under Harry, who easily held him down with a smug smile. “If you’re this childish about accepting the truth –”  
  
Again, Draco was unable to finish what he wanted to say, because Harry was suddenly kissing him with fevered passion, lips moving in a fierce dance with Draco’s own, sucking Draco’s bottom lip into his mouth and biting down lightly on it. Draco’s mind went blank as he tangled his fingers haphazardly through Harry’s hair, moaning quietly into his mouth.  
  
When Harry pulled away, licking his kiss-bruised lips as he did so, Draco was breathless. “Are you…trying…to shut me up, Potter?” he demanded as roughly as he could, although the husky quality of his voice slightly ruined the effect.  
  
“Is it working?” Harry grinned.  
  
Draco smirked. “I don’t know. I think you should try a little harder.” He paused, then added, “No pun intended.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe later. Why do you want green on the damn tree so much? You Slytherins, I swear…”  
  
“It’s not because I’m a  _Slytherin_ , Harry,” Draco said seriously.  
  
Harry snorted disbelievingly. “Sure.”  
  
“It’s not!” Draco protested.  
  
“Fine,” Harry sighed. “Then pray tell, why is it?”  
  
“They’re the colour of your eyes,” Draco said truthfully.  
  
Harry rolled said eyes again, but Draco could see them soften and knew he had won. “Are you trying to flirt your way out of this, Malfoy?”  
  
“Is it working?” Draco shot back.  
  
Harry gave in and laughed. “It worries me slightly that I’m not sure whether you like my eyes because they’re my eyes, or because they’re Slytherin green.”  
  
“They’re emerald,” Draco corrected.  
  
“Must you contradict me on everything?” Harry sighed.  
  
“Yes,” Draco said. “Perhaps you should try to shut me up again.”  
  
Harry smiled gently, tracing a hand down Draco’s cheek, his expression so soft that Draco could practically feel his heart melt at the tender gesture. It didn’t help that a ring matching Draco’s was fastened around Harry’s fourth finger and glinted in the firelight when he moved. Draco tipped his head to the side and pressed a kiss to it tenderly. Salazar, when had he become such a sap?  
  
“Well?” Draco challenged when Harry simply stared at him for a few moments. “Are you going to shut me up now?”  
  
“Perhaps I should,” Harry conceded, and set about accomplishing the task.  
  
 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Used:

Draco and Harry were squeezed awkwardly together, their shoulders squashed against each other almost painfully as they both attempted to fit their heads into the fireplace, currently emitting green flames. It had probably been a bad idea to tell Mrs. Weasley about their engagement through Firecall. Not only was it extremely uncomfortable for both of them to stick their heads into the flames at once, she would also probably be furious with them for not telling her in person. Still, it was probably better for their physical state to be kept away from her so as to avoid her smothering them with hugs.  
  
“Harry, dear!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as soon as they managed to get both of their heads engulfed in flames. “Oh, and Draco, too! How lovely. It’s been ages since you last wrote, you know?” she scolded.   
  
“Sorry,” Harry grinned. “That’s why we’re Firecalling – to make up for it.”  
  
“Well, I suppose that’s alright then, dear,” Mrs. Weasley conceded. “How are you doing, Draco? Business running alright? Lots of customers?”  
  
“Yes, plenty,” Draco assured her.  
  
“Could never stand needles and such,” Mrs. Weasley said, shivering slightly. “But you do what makes you happy, my dear.”  
  
Draco openly rolled his eyes, earning him a harsh kick from Harry. Draco shot him a glare, which was difficult to do in the cramped space and resulted in both of their heads bumping each other.  
  
“This is really quite lovely,” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Tell me, boys, what’s been going on? Is your photography doing well, Harry? I saw a delightful little spread the other day and I thought it must have been done by you – the style was unmistakeable – but it didn’t seem to have your name on it.”  
  
“It might have been,” Harry said absentmindedly. “Actually, Mrs. Weasley...there’s something Draco and I would like to tell you.”  
  
“Oh dear,” she said. “It sounds serious.”  
  
“It is,” Harry agreed.  
  
“For Salazar’s sake, Harry, you’re scaring her,” Draco snapped.  
  
“No, I’m not,” Harry retorted.  
  
“You are, a bit,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Out with it, boys! What is it?”  
  
Harry started slowly, “The thing is, you know, Draco and I have been together for a long while, and I’d been doing some thinking, and I know you would’ve probably wanted me to tell you first, but I was really worried that –”  
  
“We’re getting married,” Draco cut in impatiently.  
  
There was all around silence for a full minute. Harry was staring at the floor, a pretty flush creeping over his skin, Draco was looking unabashedly at Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley was gaping in half-shock, half-delight.  
  
Finally, she reacted. Explosively. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she cried. “Quick, boys, get your arses over here right this instant!” She disappeared from view, and could be heard hollering throughout the house, “Arthur! Arthur! Our boys are getting engaged!”  
  
“To each other?” Mr. Weasley shouted back from wherever he was, his voice just only audible. “Isn’t that incestuous?”  
  
“Not those boys!” Mrs. Weasley snapped, and a second later, she reappeared before them. “Arses here right now, boys! This calls for a celebration! Oh, to think I haven’t even gotten you a present...”  
  
Harry and Draco pulled themselves out of the fire, Harry choking slightly on ashes as they did so.   
  
“We were supposed to break it to her gently!” Harry shot at him.  
  
“I was hoping we could get it over with before we both died of old age,” Draco retaliated.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, we might as well get over there, unless you want her to skin us alive.”  
  
Draco smirked. “I suppose so. Lead the way, Potter.”  
  
Harry shook his head, mood slightly unsettled, which certainly wouldn’t do. In order to rectify the situation, Draco reached out and yanked him forward by his collar.  
  
“Hey!” Harry yelped. “What are you –”  
  
Draco silenced him with a chaste kiss to his lips. He tasted a little like soot, but Draco didn’t mind, especially when Harry gave in and kissed him back.  
  
“Trying to shut me up, huh?” Harry questioned as Draco reached for the Floo Powder.  
  
“I learned from the best,” Draco smirked. “You ready?”  
  
Harry smiled. Draco realised, suddenly, that he’d probably never get over that smile. “Ready.”   
  
 _To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Used:

If there was one thing Draco loved more than tattoo artistry, it was probably shopping. As stereotypically homosexual as it sounded, he loved browsing stores and picking out clothes for himself and others, and he could spend hours flitting in and out of fitting rooms. It was a good thing that his bank balance was more than ample, and also that Harry was mostly willing to indulge him, watching while Draco perused items, waiting patiently for Draco to make choices, and offering opinions and compliments when needed. He'd also brought his camera along with him several times and taken photos of Draco when he wasn't looking. Though he didn't seem to be the type, Draco was extremely camera-shy, and only Harry's coaxing and praise were able to convince him to pose for anything. It was even more difficult because Harry's camera was a professional one and Draco feared that it would capture his faults all too easily. When he'd admitted this to Harry, Harry had instantly told Draco that he made the perfect image and as a photographer, it was only Harry's duty to capture his perfection. Although he'd scoffed at the excessive flattery, Draco had since relaxed and allowed Harry to use some of his candid photographs, which he'd previously ordered to be kept private, in his portfolios. Harry had taken full advantage of every opportunity to photograph Draco ever since.  
  
Getting back to the subject of the joys of shopping, if there was one type of shopping Draco couldn't stand, it was probably Christmas shopping, because...well, fuck.  
  
The main problem with Christmas shopping was that Draco felt completely pressured to please his friends and family. It was probably the only time of year that he gave a damn about what other people wanted (Harry excluded, of course, because he always wanted to make Harry happy, no matter what the season). He fretted about whether Pansy would prefer the pink blouse to the blue, and if his mother would consider new silverware too cheap and thoughtless, and if Mr. Weasley already had this particular Muggle contraption. Honestly, there was too much to worry about, and Draco hated it. Also, the crowds were wilder than usual at this time of year, and Draco hated having to fight his way through them and get pushed and shoved left and right.  
  
This year was probably the worst Christmas shopping experience Draco had ever had. First of all, Harry wasn't with him. The git had decided to get an important photography appointment, today of all days, and wasn't there to ease Draco's tension or act as his bodyguard from fiercer mobs of people. Christmas shopping in itself was bad enough; there was no way he could handle doing it alone. He didn't blame Harry, though. It had been for a high-end photoshoot he'd been dying to be a part of, and Draco had practically forced him to go for it even though Harry had wanted to turn it down to go with Draco instead.  
  
Another reason this shopping experience sucked was due to reporters. As he and Harry had just gotten engaged and the news had somehow spread quickly from the second he stepped into Diagon Alley with his engagement ring on, Draco was hounded by journalists and bombarded with questions that he couldn't be bothered to answer all day long. By the time he escaped the reporters' clutches, he was frazzled, his head was throbbing, his nerves were shot, and he was entirely stressed out.  
  
Which is why, after rushing back into Muggle London, Draco took a trip to the local library. Books always had a calming effect on Draco. There was nothing quite like the smell and feel of them, or the textures of their pages and the neat font contained within them. Books were one of Draco's two natural relaxants. The other was Harry, but seeing as he was absent, books would have to do.  
  
About an hour into a particularly interesting book, Draco was startled by arms wrapping around his waist.  
  
"Hey," Harry said, pressing a kiss to the back of Draco's neck. Draco could feel Harry smiling against his skin. "How was shopping?"  
  
Draco wondered briefly how Harry had known he was here, but realised it wouldn't have been that hard to guess. Draco always went here when he was stressed out, and Harry knew he'd be very stressed out after a day like this one. "Horrid," Draco said. "I hate you."  
  
Harry chuckled, and Draco felt the vibrations of those laughs travel all the way down his spine. "Still mad at me, I see."  
  
"A keen observation," Draco said stiffly.  
  
"How about dinner?" Harry offered.  
  
"No," Draco replied sourly.  
  
Harry spun him around so that they were facing each other. Draco glared at Harry for a few moments before turning his face away. Harry decided to use the opportunity to press gentle kisses to Draco's cheek, pulling him in closer and wrapping his arms around him again. Despite his best efforts, Draco felt himself melting against Harry.  
  
"Still mad?" Harry whispered.  
  
"Very," Draco sniffed.  
  
Harry smiled and pressed his lips against Draco's. Draco tried to put up a resistance, but Harry just felt so much like home after a long day that he found himself kissing back after only a few seconds' struggle. Pathetic attempt, really, but Draco couldn't think about that when Harry was running his tongue over Draco's teeth with expert skill and then sucking on his tongue in that exact way that drove Draco wild.  
  
Draco pulled away. "We can't snog in a library," he said.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Like that ever stopped us in Eighth Year."  
  
Draco tried not to blush at the memory, but it was really difficult because they'd done so much more than snog in the Hogwarts library. Suffice to say that Madam Pince would have been after their blood had she found out.  
  
Harry leaned in to kiss him again, and Draco didn't even bother to fight it this time.  
  
"Still mad?" Harry questioned after another heated session of kissing.  
  
"Furious," Draco murmured. "Do that again, and maybe I won't be."  
  
Harry grinned before closing the distance between them again. Draco supposed the day hadn't been too bad. Books and Harry - what more could he ask for?  
  
 _To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Used:

Of all the bad ideas Harry had ever had (and he'd had quite a few), Draco figured that deciding to pick Andromeda and Teddy up by Knight Bus was probably the worst one yet. Draco had long since learned to keep his balance on this horribly volatile form of transport, but it didn't do much for his hair or overall appearance, and it wasn't made any easier by the fact that he was half-holding, half-carrying Teddy by the hand. Teddy had definitely inherited his mother's grace - or lack thereof - and was slipping and sliding around, dragging Draco along with him.  
  
While Draco was struggling to keep himself on his feet, Harry was failing altogether. Draco was forced to do nothing but watch and yell "are you alright"s as his fiancé was thrown around, occasionally crashing against the windows and slamming into other passengers. Meanwhile, Andromeda was seated easily on one of the beds which was currently jerking roughly along with the bus. She was staring out the window, a faraway look on her face, her posture perfectly upright and her appearance relatively untouched by the shifting of her seat. In fact, she seemed completely unaffected by the violent movements of the Knight Bus. Draco didn't understand how she did it, or how she made it look so effortless. Whatever the case, it was more than a little amusing to watch Andromeda's peaceful gazing alongside Harry's awkward tripping around.  
  
"Aren't you Harry Potter?" a middle-aged man asked, gesturing at Harry.  
  
"Maybe," Harry gritted out as he was sent sprawling to the left.  
  
"Then you must be Draco Malfoy," the man went on, fixing Draco with a shrewd glare.  
  
"Yes," Draco affirmed noncommitally.  
  
Andromeda turned towards them, eyes interested but face kept carefully passive.   
  
"You certainly are an odd pair," the man remarked.  
  
Harry was about to say something, but at that exact moment, they veered sharply to the right and he vanished somewhere further into the bus.  
  
Once Harry was out of earshot, the man leaned closer to Draco. "I'm surprised he's kept you around," he stated. "Not that I mean any offense, of course. But surely you realise that you aren't nearly the type of person a hero should be with."  
  
Draco was more than aware of the fact. The truth was, he didn't feel all that entitled to Harry, and he often found himself wondering why Harry even bothered to stick around. He didn't let any of these insecurities show, though. "I don't believe there's a specific type of person for anyone," he said coldly.  
  
"Oh no, of course not," the man agreed. "But I'm just saying, you're an odd pair. When I first heard that you were dating a few years ago, I honestly didn't believe you'd last, so when I read that you'd both gotten engaged, I was very surprised. No offense meant, of course, but I had been of the opinion that you were a passing fancy of his. I mean, honestly, he's our saviour and you're, well..." The man trailed off.  
  
"What am I, exactly?" Draco asked, none-too-kindly.  
  
"Surely I needn't spell it out," the man chuckled nervously, glancing around.  
  
"I'm afraid you must," Draco replied, his face a mask of indifference.  
  
The man looked around again before whispering, "You know, a Death Eater."  
  
Draco tried not to look affected. " _Former_  Death Eater," he said.  
  
The man laughed. "Same thing. What do you work as, anyway?"  
  
"None of your business," Draco snapped.  
  
"He's a photographer, ain't he?" the man went on, ignoring Draco's tone. "Pity. So much talent in him gone to waste. If he hadn't been so invested in you he might've done better for himself."  
  
Draco was just opening his mouth to come up with a comeback when Harry reappeared, looking winded and very angry.  
  
"If you haven't got anything nice to say to my fiancé," he hissed, maintaining balance with some difficulty, "You can tell him through me. Got it?"  
  
The man smiled and looked away, thoroughly uncaring. Harry turned to Draco, but just then, the bus screeched to a shuddering halt, sending Harry practically flying into a poor old woman's bed, and Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief. The torturous ride was over at last.  
  
As they got off the blasted Knight Bus, Draco did a quick inventory of his and Harry's limbs; they seemed to have made it out relatively unscathed.  
  
"I got a booboo!" Teddy announced as soon as they'd straightened themselves out. Draco had a numb sensation running across his left arm from where Teddy had put his weight on. The seven-year-old was currently showing off a little bruise on his pinky finger that he'd obtained through the rough ride.  
  
"Poor dear," Andromeda said fondly. "Would you like me to kiss it better?"  
  
"I want Cousin Draco to kiss it better!" Teddy exclaimed.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes, feeling a little silly as he leaned down and kissed Teddy's small bruise. The boy giggled and latched on tighter to Draco's arm. Draco winced. Teddy was actually a lot closer to Harry, seeing as he was Harry's godson, but he'd taken quite a liking to Draco over the past month and wouldn't stop grabbing hold of him whenever he was in sight.  
  
"Can we get ice cream, Cousin Draco?" Teddy asked.  
  
"Maybe later," Draco allowed. "Wouldn't you like to see Harry's and my house first? We've got a really nice room for you."  
  
Teddy considered this. "Does it have a really big bed?"  
  
"The biggest one you ever saw," Draco promised solemnly. He glanced up and saw Harry watching him with an odd expression on his face, part tender, part thoughtful, and part...something else.  
  
Behind them, walking at a slightly slower pace, Andromeda chuckled. Draco turned to look at her quizzically and saw an indulgent smile written on her lips. Before Draco had the time to question it, Harry had reached out and grasped Draco's hand.  
  
"Teddy, why don't we go look at some books for a moment?" Andromeda asked suddenly. Teddy skipped off to join her without a moment's hesitation.  
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry turned towards Draco, a worried frown creasing his features. “You don’t believe any of that rubbish, do you?” he asked.  
  
“What, that Teddy wants to look at books?” Draco smirked. “Shame on you, Harry. Surely you didn’t expect your godson to be as non-intellectual as you?”  
  
Harry smiled, but only for a short second. “You know what I’m talking about, Draco,” he said. “What that guy said on the bus. You don’t believe any of it, right?”  
  
“Of course not,” Draco lied.   
  
Harry didn’t look in the least bit convinced. “What he said was really stupid,” he stated earnestly. “There wasn’t a shred of truth in any of it.”  
  
“I know,” Draco said, feigning annoyance.  
  
“I love you,” Harry went on seriously. “I don’t want anyone else, and I never will.”  
  
“I know that, Potter,” Draco snapped.  
  
Harry steered them around the corner and took Draco’s face in his hands, forcing Draco to meet his eyes. “I don’t think you do,” he said sternly. “Now you listen to me, Draco Malfoy. I don’t care if anyone thinks you aren’t good enough for me, because I know better. All you’ve done for me over the years is bring out the absolute best in me, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. You’re beautiful, compassionate (even if you constantly strive not to be) and wonderful with kids, and there’s nothing about you that I don’t absolutely love. I mean, sure, you’re manipulative and frustrating and incredibly high-maintenance, and you seem to forget quite often that I love you more than anything else in the world, but you’re you, and I love every inch of you.”  
  
Draco couldn’t help smiling softly and relaxing into Harry’s embrace. “You’re a corny, cheesy, ridiculous sap,” he accused.  
  
“Maybe,” Harry laughed. “But you love it.”  
  
Draco chuckled. “That I do,” he said, tilting Harry’s chin upwards to kiss him.  
  
 _To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness!
> 
> **Prompt Used:**

Draco barely had time to react as he was assaulted by a roughly thrown snowball, which hit him in the back of the neck and sent him stumbling into the snow. He spun around and threw his own less tightly packed snowball in Teddy’s general direction. The kid could throw. Over the past half hour spent frolicking in the snow and engaging in snowball fights, Teddy had dealt several perfectly aimed snowballs that hurt something fierce. He’d make a pretty decent Chaser.  
  
“How do you make that look so graceful?” Harry called as Teddy sent another snowball soaring at Draco.  
  
Draco deflected it with a flick of his wand, sending it Harry’s way instead. “What?” he questioned.  
  
“Getting hit by a snowball,” Harry replied, dodging the ball narrowly.  
  
Draco smiled, secretly flattered that Harry could possibly think he looked attractive when he’d been knocked to the ground by a flying spherical object. “Not all of us are klutzes, Potter!” he grinned. He tried to hide his pleased blush at Harry’s compliment as he made his retort, but he knew Harry could see right through it, especially if that smug smile was anything to go by.  
  
“What’s a klutz?” Teddy asked from his hiding place behind a bush before he launched another snowball at Harry, who allowed it to hit him and fell to the ground in dramatic agony, making Teddy giggle.  
  
“A very clumsy person,” Draco replied.  
  
“Oh!” Teddy exclaimed. “I must be a klutz, then.”  
  
“A very adorable one, I assure you,” Draco smiled.  
  
“I’m not adorable!” Teddy protested.  
  
Harry, meanwhile, had sneaked up behind his godson when he was otherwise preoccupied, and now grabbed him, lifting him off the ground and laughing as they fell softly into the snow. “Of course not,” he told Teddy. “You’re a big, strong boy, aren’t you?”  
  
Teddy nodded eagerly, picking up some snow while he was at it and smushing it in Harry’s face.  
  
“Why you...” Harry grinned, and Teddy leaped up, squealing, dashing away as Harry chased him around and around in the snow.  
  
Draco laughed louder and more heartily than he ever remembered laughing before. To be honest, he couldn’t remember ever being more happy than he was now. He could live like this forever, he realised, just spending the rest of his life with Harry and enjoying all the shenanigans they came up with as they went along. Draco remembered being a teen and thinking he’d never find peace, let alone joy or happiness. He must have struck a lottery or something somewhere along the way.  
  
Andromeda was watching this whole ordeal, a smile playing on her lips. “He’s really quite beautiful,” she said, referring to Teddy.  
  
“Yeah,” Draco agreed, but his eyes were fixed on Harry, watching his fiancé “attack” Teddy and knock him to the ground, then tickle him to bits, reducing him to a cute little pile of tinkling laughter and giggles. “He is.”  
  
 _To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco was in a semi-mad state of panic. This might take several people by surprise, mainly because Draco almost never got into any state of panic at all. In fact, the worst form of distress he’d ever shown was probably that one time he’d been late to his and Harry’s anniversary dinner due to one of his customers turning out to be allergic to the type of needle he had been using, and even then, he’d walked into the restaurant calmly and apologised not-too-frantically at their table. It wouldn’t do, really, for Draco to lose his cool easily, because Harry went into panic-mode quite often, and it was Draco’s job to remain the rational person when that happened.  
  
This time was different, however, because this time, Draco had taken extra special care to make sure that he purchased the perfect gift, and it had gone a bit off budget, especially since he and Harry had originally just planned to get Teddy a toy. It was also different because this time, this was a joint present from both him and Harry, and Draco felt like he had stuffed up really, really badly.  
  
“Are you quite alright, Draco?” Andromeda asked as he frantically cast repeated, fruitless  _Accio_ s and turned several objects over in his rush to find the missing thing. Her face clearly showed her concern, probably because she’d never seen Draco act like this before, ever.  
  
“Yes, quite,” Draco assured her too-loudly as he cast Revealing Charms on several boxes and plastic bags that had been laid out around the house.  
  
“Should you require assistance, I am willing,” she offered.  
  
“No, I’m fine,” Draco lied. “I just need to...I know it’s here...”  
  
“Draco?” Harry’s voice was suddenly heard from the doorway. Draco glanced over his shoulder at him. Home early from work, then. How typical. When Draco complained he was working longer hours than necessary, nothing much changed, but as soon as Draco wanted him out of the house for just a little longer, he came barging in ahead of schedule.  
  
“What?” Draco snapped, perhaps a little too harshly, and then he shook his head in annoyance with himself. Harry hadn’t done anything wrong to him – if anything, Draco had wronged Harry by losing the gift they’d bought for Teddy.  
  
Harry was across the room in half a second, instantly enveloping Draco in his arms and pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. Draco felt the tension practically drain out of him and he managed to get a reign on his emotions enough to force himself to stay as calm as possible. He wondered, not for the first time and probably not for the last, if Harry had a magical Calming or Soothing Charm placed on him that transferred to everything he touched.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Harry questioned.  
  
Draco averted his eyes to the ground. “I’ve lost it.”  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. “If you mean your sanity, I didn’t know you had any to lose.”  
  
Draco shot him a glare, especially because Harry’s quip was an exact replica of one Draco had used on him before. “Not _that_ ,” he said impatiently. “I knew I lost  _that_  the minute I decided to date you.”  
  
“I lost mine when I started thinking you would,” Harry chuckled fondly. “Guess we’re the perfect pair, huh?”   
  
Draco couldn’t help but relax a little more, because the latter part of Harry’s statement was completely true.  
  
“So what have you lost, then?” Harry asked.  
  
Draco looked away, flushing. “The hamster,” he mumbled shamefacedly.  
  
Harry stared at him for a few moments. “The  _what_?”  
  
“The hamster,” Draco repeated, feeling his frustration mount again. “The one we got for Teddy.”  
  
Harry continued to stare at him for a few more moments, and then he smiled almost indulgently. Draco had a feeling that Harry was just trying not to laugh at him and considered, for the trillionth time since the beginning of their relationship, hexing him into oblivion.   
  
“We’ll find it,” Harry grinned. “These things always pop up eventually, in some place or other.”  
  
“But this isn’t a  _thing_ , Harry, it’s a living creature!” Draco exclaimed, and he could already feel his panic mounting. What if his carelessness in keeping the hamster properly caged caused it its life? Sure, he could buy another one to keep Teddy happy, but this wasn’t a dispensable dead item – it was alive and well and could get hurt. Draco would never be able to forgive himself if that happened.  
  
Harry, probably seeing Draco start to go frantic again, gently soothed him with another kiss to his cheek. “You know what? Let’s go look for it together right now. We won’t stop until we find it, alright?”  
  
Draco reluctantly nodded, and Harry smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before turning away and starting to scour the area, all businesslike. “Where’d you last see him?”  
  
“I put him in a cage right over there but I didn’t close the door properly.”  
  
“We’ll find it,” Harry said. “It couldn’t have gone that far.”  
  
Just then, there was a delighted squeal from the living room. Draco and Harry looked up from their searching in surprise. Andromeda had already stood and was striding out of the room to investigate. The other two hurried out right behind her.  
  
Kneeling in front of the Christmas tree was Teddy, his brown eyes wide with pleasant surprise as he stared at something burrowed in the fake snow that Harry had scattered around the base of the tree. The thing had somehow managed to detach some of the lower ornaments on the tree and had red jewels draped across its little furry body.  
  
“I think we found the hamster,” Harry commented mildly, and Draco glared at him.  
  
“Can we keep him?” Teddy exclaimed excitedly. “Please, please, please?”  
  
Andromeda knelt down beside him and picked the little hamster up. “Of course we can, darling,” she smiled, handing him over to Teddy, who took it into his little hands. The hamster twitched its nose, looking up at Teddy curiously.  
  
“You know what this means, right?” Harry asked, when Teddy had gone to the next room to play with his new friend.  
  
“That the day’s been saved, with no help at all from you?” Draco guessed.  
  
Harry chose to ignore the comment. “We need to get another Christmas gift for Teddy.”  
  
Draco groaned. “Oh, no.”  
  
 _To be continued_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco was busying himself in the kitchen the next day when Harry walked in to help himself to a Christmas cookie or two that Andromeda had baked, which was a little odd, because Harry didn’t particularly like raisins in his biscuits.  
  
“What you making?” Harry asked.  
  
“You agreed that we’d bring the pudding to Mrs. Weasley’s Christmas dinner,” Draco said, pretending to be sore about it. “I’m just making some now.”  
  
Harry glanced at the calendar that hung on the wall. “A little early, isn’t it?”  
  
“I’m practising,” Draco replied. “It isn’t as if you’ll be any help in the kitchen.” While Draco appreciated burnt toast and misshapen omelettes when Harry made an effort to serve him breakfast in bed, it was probably more wise to leave him out of the more serious cooking.  
  
“I don’t think you need much practice,” Harry admitted. “You’re quite good at it already.”  
  
“Yes, but I’ve never tried lighting the pudding before,” Draco stated.  
  
“A wave of the wand and it’ll be all set,” Harry responded.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. Trust Harry to be the practical one. “I’m doing it the Muggle way,” he replied. “It’s far more satisfying and it’s really best done traditionally.”  
  
Harry stared at him for a few seconds before miming falling into a dead faint. “Draco Malfoy just admitted the Muggle way is better,” he gasped. “The world must be ending.”  
  
Draco glared at him as he poured brandy into a metal ladle. “Ha ha, very funny. Now make yourself useful and light me a candle or a match or something.”  
  
Harry picked up a candle from one end of the kitchen counter and lit it wandlessly before handing it over to Draco.  
  
“Show off,” Draco muttered darkly. Harry chuckled, then watched as Draco held the candle under the brandy, waiting.  
  
“Is that entirely safe?” Harry questioned after a moment.  
  
“Oh, yes,” Draco assured him, just as the brandy started to catch on fire. He noticed Harry tensing out of the corner of his eye and smiled to himself. When they first started dating, Draco had gotten rather annoyed by Harry’s constant worry over him, but eventually, he’d learned that Harry only fretted because he cared, and Draco really appreciated that, as well as found it rather sweet.   
  
Draco shook his head to make himself focus and moved to the pudding he’d just only finished baking. He slowly, cautiously ladled the flaming brandy over it, and grinned victoriously when the pudding lit exactly as he wanted it to. It was a perfect replica of a picture he’d found in an old recipe book. Excellent.  
  
Draco felt himself being hugged from behind – as was Harry’s favourite form of attack – and laughed when Harry buried his face in Draco’s neck. “See? I didn’t burn the house down,” Draco smirked.  
  
“I’m impressed,” Harry said mildly, spinning Draco around and pinning him against the counter.  
  
“Turned out gorgeously, didn’t it?” Draco bragged.  
  
“It did indeed,” Harry replied, not even looking at Draco’s masterpiece, his eyes fixed pointedly on Draco’s face instead.  
  
“Not me, silly!” Draco snapped playfully. “The pudding!”  
  
“Oh, well, that’s pretty good, too,” Harry allowed before leaning in to nip at Draco’s neck.  
  
Draco moaned quietly. “I knew there was another reason for you popping up in the kitchen. There was no way you were just after a cookie.”  
  
Harry chuckled. “True, that. You know me too well,” he remarked before continuing his mission of sucking a line down Draco’s neck. Draco had half a mind to scold him for leaving clearly visible love bites all over him, but when Harry dipped his tongue into his collarbone, the thought flew out of his mind.  
  
“Wait, Harry,” Draco gasped.  
  
“What?” Harry asked, pulling away to meet Draco’s gaze.  
  
“We might want to do this away from the flaming pudding.”  
  
“Good point,” Harry said with a scarily Slytherin-like smirk and a dangerous twinkle in his eye. Before Draco knew what was happening, Harry had lifted him effortlessly up into his arms, ignoring Draco’s protests and kicking and demands to be put down  _right now_ , and carried him off to the bedroom.  
  
 _To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who have commented! I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to reply. I promise to do so as soon as I have time! 
> 
> **Prompt Used:**

Draco had a habit of watching Harry while he worked. There was something beautiful in the way he handled a camera - methodically adjusting the lens, crouching artfully to achieve more fulfilling angles, and performing precise movements of his hands as they fixed the zoom, toyed with the numerous buttons, and descended with practiced skill on the shutter. There was also something rather lovely in the furrow of his brow as he gazed through the eyepiece analytically, the focus in his well-trained stare as he surveyed his potential masterpiece, and the sparkle that was brought to his emerald green eyes when he was satisfied with the resulting image. Draco supposed it was only natural. Harry was photographic himself, a fine piece of nature with perfection that could be found in his flaws and in the subtle beauty of the most detailed lines and colours of his being. It was perfectly understandable that a man who was such a wonderful picture in himself was capable of producing equally wonderful photographs.  
  
This afternoon was no different, and Draco found himself sitting and watching Harry as he easily snapped shots of Andromeda, Teddy and the new pet hamster (aptly named Moony) while they ate mince pies at the dinner table.  
  
"What do you mean there's no beef in mince pies?" Teddy was exclaiming, eyes wide with amusing surprise. "Then why are they called 'mince'?"  
  
"They've got mincemeat in them," Draco replied.  
  
"Hasn't mincemeat got beef anyway?" Teddy demanded.  
  
"I didn't use any beef," Andromeda stated. "I used vegetable shortening instead."  
  
"I'm eating  _vegetable_?" Teddy gaped. He peered at his half-eaten pie as if he was seeing it for the first time.  
  
"Yes, honey," Andromeda smiled. "Much healthier for you."  
  
Draco laughed quietly at the dumbstruck look on Teddy's face. He glanced up to look at his fiancé to see his reaction to the situation unfolding before them and saw that Harry was still clicking his camera, occasionally, chuckling quietly in that way of his while he watched the scene unfold. There was something soft in his gaze and loving in his manner, and Draco felt his own gaze (and heart) soften just a little along with Harry's. He loved seeing all of Harry's adoration for his godson written so clearly in his glance. And yet, somehow, there was something even more in his eyes today as he took another well-timed picture, something like wonder, fascination and mesmerization.  
  
Before Draco could think about it, Harry looked up at him, having noticed him staring, and winked. Draco rolled his eyes and helped himself to a mince pie from the tray stacked high with them. Andromeda had managed to make the tops of the pies star-shaped, probably to appeal to Teddy, Draco would have to ask her how she did it, later, because he was certain she had used a spell of some sort.  
  
"Harry, stop using that camera and come sit with us," Andromeda ordered.  
  
"He's photographing you," Draco said. "You should feel like a star."  
  
Andromeda laughed. "I'm flattered, I'm sure. But Harry's been using one of those new Flexible Lenses he got from Diagon Alley, and it isn't me or Teddy that he's been photographing; at least, not for about ten minutes."  
  
Draco started, turning his head to glare at Harry with accusing eyes. Harry grinned sheepishly and detached the lens of his camera, which had been, until that point, hidden from Draco's view, and revealed a lens bent at an angle and pointing directly at Draco.  
  
Draco had specifically asked not to be taken a photo of that morning because he’d been too lazy to fix his hair into its usual gelled state. Harry had, of course, decided to try his luck anyway. To be honest, Draco was surprised by how not surprised he was.  
  
“A word, Potter?” Draco said, half-dragging Harry out of the room and into the kitchen.  
  
“Sorry,” Harry began, looking a little nervous, because Draco was always very prickly about getting his photos taken. “I just –”  
  
Draco had already stopped listening. He was thinking about the way Harry had been looking at him through the camera lens. When he’d thought Harry was staring at Andromeda and Teddy with that lovely look in his eyes, Harry had actually been looking right at him. Draco had never even realised that Harry looked at him that way. He could already feel his heart melting as he thought of the gentle way Harry had gazed at him and the careful, tender way he’d taken each image, as if he was caressing Draco through the camera before clicking the shutter.  
  
“I didn’t mean...you looked so good and I thought...” Harry was still speaking.  
  
Draco grabbed him hungrily by the front of his shirt, overwhelmed by a tightening sensation in his chest, and crushed their lips together.  
  
Harry’s mouth fell open in a gasp of surprise, and Draco used the opportunity to slip his tongue between Harry’s lips, exploring his mouth and tasting ever inch of him. Harry moaned quietly and began to kiss back, twining their tongues together as more noises escaped both of them.  
  
Draco pulled away when he felt heat starting to pool in his stomach and smirked as Harry stared at him in a daze.  
  
“What was that for?” Harry questioned.  
  
“You really going to question it?” Draco grinned.  
  
Harry shook his head and leaned forward to join their lips once more.  
  
Draco pushed him off. “No, you don’t. That was just a sample of what you’ll be getting later. You aren’t getting anymore right now.”  
  
Harry sighed. “Alright.”  
  
Draco laughed and had to try very hard to resist kissing the pout right off of Harry’s face. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck instead. “Sneaky, aren’t you?” he drawled.  
  
Harry blinked, still looking shocked by Draco’s sudden assault, but he smiled anyway. “I learned from the best.”  
  
Draco smirked. “Naturally.”  
  
 _To be continued_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco remembered vividly the series of events which led him and Harry to transition from enemies to friends. It was two days after the War, and Draco saw Harry pacing amongst the rubble, examining the ruins with a melancholy look on his face. Draco had approached him to thank him for saving his life. Harry had responded by returning Draco's wand to him. The months that followed had been filled with tentative correspondence in the form of handwritten letters, and through them, Harry had convinced Draco to return to Hogwarts for Eighth Year. Through these, a friendship was formed.  
  
Draco could also pinpoint the exact moment he fell head over heels in love with Harry. There had been signs beforehand, of course, like the fact that Draco started to notice the delicate softness in Harry's features, began to take note of the exact colour of his eyes and find it everywhere he looked, slowly realised that he was thinking of him far too often, and started laughing at all his crappy jokes. Not to mention the fact that he made an effort to get along with the Gryffindors and even started talking to some of them and hanging around them just to be near Harry.  
  
But Draco knew for sure when he'd fallen for the idiot, and it hadn't been at the best of times. Harry and Draco had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room and sharing a companionable silence. Everyone else was at dinner but neither of them were feeling very hungry. Draco had just started reading a book when Dennis Creevey had come up to Harry and handed him a camera. The camera belonged to his brother, Colin, who had lost his life in the War. Dennis stated that Colin would have wanted Harry to have the camera, and Harry had accepted with a bewildered look on his face and plenty of expressions of thanks. Once Draco and Harry were alone again, Harry had bent his head over the camera and cried. Draco had an arm around him in an instant and held him as he grieved over the loss of all his friends and family and the people who were affected by the War. It was slightly odd because Harry wasn't really the type to cry, but Draco understood. He'd cried, too.  
  
Somewhere in that hour of Harry just letting his tears fall onto Draco's shirt, Draco fell in love. Draco would later spend countless nights laying awake and thinking Harry would never feel the same way.  
  
About two months later, Harry and Draco had taken a walk around Muggle London. Eighth Years were barely bound by the rules of Hogwarts and were allowed to do as they pleased when they didn't have classes. Some of them even had night jobs and left the castle directly after the school day. Harry had taken Draco to the Muggle parts of London a few times and showed Draco around. Draco loved it there. The lights were bright with electricity, something Draco had never encountered before, and all the Muggles were friendly and didn't care about the snake tattoo on Draco's left forearm.  
  
They'd been walking for about an hour and stopped at a bench to rest. The bench had been unremarkable - made of wood, slightly creaky, altogether not much to look at. What had happened on it was what made it memorable.  
  
Draco could still recall the way Harry had turned to him, nervousness playing in those sparkling green eyes he’d come to love and betraying the laughter he forced out of his throat when Draco remarked that he was especially on edge tonight. Harry was sitting incredibly close and their shoulders were pressed together, which did nothing for the constant acceleration of Draco’s pulse rate. Harry had reached out and taken Draco’s hand, and Draco noticed that Harry’s fingers were trembling, and his own had just started to shake. Then Harry leaned in and Draco felt a soft press of lips against his own. If there was a feeling that represented utter bliss, Draco supposed it would have to be that sweet, tender, nervous little kiss that had been their first.  
  
Their first date had been at Hogsmeade. Harry had presented Draco with a gorgeous red rose, which was Draco’s favourite flower, and a gentle kiss. They’d gone for a long walk, ignoring all the stares they received at being hand-in-hand, and had spent about an hour in Honeydukes. The news that they were dating hit the papers the next morning. Some horrible things had been said about Draco, and he’d spent three days avoiding Harry, thinking that he was just being a burden and an embarrassment to the Golden Boy. Thankfully, Harry had eventually found him and snogged some sense into him.  
  
Draco also recalled the first time they tried to have sex. Neither had ever done anything like that before, and they’d ended up making a mess with the lube and completely failing to do anything, which resulted in a lot of laughter and eventually just being content to fall asleep in each others arms. When they actually did have sex a week later, though, Draco had never felt more complete in his entire life. It was probably around then that he’d realised he was completely and utterly screwed and that Harry was going to be the absolute death of him. He was fine with that; he couldn’t think of a better way to die.  
  
“Pretty!” Teddy exclaimed suddenly, jogging Draco out of his reminiscing. He glanced up and saw Teddy pointing excitedly at a bunch of brightly decorated trees a few metres away. They were hung with multi-coloured neon lights. Draco couldn’t help appreciating them. Muggles had some pretty good things going, really.  
  
Just a few feet ahead of them, Draco spotted the good old bench where he and Harry had shared their first kiss, a precursor to many others. “Look,” he said, grabbing Harry’s hand and pointing to it. Harry looked over and smiled, nodding fondly. “Let’s have a seat,” Draco went on, ushering Harry towards it. Harry complied and sat down the lightly snow-dusted surface, grinning when Draco did the same. Andromeda and Teddy continued to pace through the snow, mostly in a circle in front of the bench, Teddy kicking up some of it as he went along.  
  
Draco’s heart was palpitating wildly. He knew there was no reason for him to get nervous about this. Harry already wanted to marry him, and it was irrational to think that he wouldn’t like what Draco was about to do. “Harry,” Draco said.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Remember once we had that long debate about putting ourselves in each others shoes?”  
  
Harry frowned. Draco knew it wasn’t a particularly good memory for either of them, as the argument had lasted a week and had been one of their only serious fights. “Yeah...”  
  
“I hope you know I’ve been trying to do exactly that ever since then,” Draco continued. “And I’m going to do that right now. Of course, this isn’t exactly the same, because I already know what your answer will be, but I’m still pissed off because you proposed first, and I clearly know the proper way to do this, so...” He got off the bench and turned to face Harry.  
  
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his eyes comically wide.  
  
Draco dropped down on one knee and pulled out a red rose identical to the one Harry had given him on their first date. “Harry Potter,” Draco began, carefully gauging Harry’s reaction. A few Muggles were watching silently from a distance. “I know you’ve already proposed, and I know I’ve already said yes, but regardless, would you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me, and make me the happiest man in the world?”  
  
Harry just sat there, staring openly at Draco, for what seemed like forever. Draco’s heart was thudding against his ribs, and several Muggles now were gathering nearby and watching. How on earth had Harry managed to work up the courage to do this in the first place?  
  
And then, suddenly, Harry launched himself from his seat on the bench and tackled Draco to the snow, crushing his lips against Draco’s. Draco smiled in relief, releasing his grip on the rose in favour of tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair.  
  
Applause and cheers began to erupt from the people surrounding them, watching. He could hear Teddy saying something along the lines of “gross” (cooties and such things still being very much present in his brain) and Andromeda laughing as she snapped pictures of them with Harry’s camera, but he didn’t really pay much attention to anything else going on at the moment. He was completely content to be lost in the feel of snow soaking into the back of his coat (which he’d get mad at Harry for later, of course) and the taste and feel and experience of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Ruined His Life...In The Best Way Possible.  
  
 _To Be Continued..._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco and Harry dropped off both Andromeda and Teddy at Bill and Fleur’s the next day, where they were set to stay until the end of the weekend. Teddy loved it there, and he especially adored little Victoire. Despite a slight age difference, the two of them were extremely close friends. To be honest, the only reason Draco was able to tell Bill and Fleur apart from the other married Weasleys was because of Teddy’s attachment to Victoire.  
  
Draco always hated parting with Teddy, but the fact that they got to go to Cornwall each time they had to was a reasonable compensation for that. Cornwall was especially beautiful in winter, and he and Harry made a habit of walking through the valley just a stone’s throw away from Shell Cottage each time they had the chance.  
  
“Teddy would’ve started a rather nasty snowball fight here,” Harry noted as they trudged through the snow.  
  
Draco nodded a little sadly. He was already missing his cousin and his aunt, although he wasn’t going to admit it to Harry, especially after all his griping about Teddy leaving a mess behind him everywhere he went.  
  
“Hey,” Harry said, instantly noticing that something was amiss. “What’s the matter?”  
  
“Harry,” Draco began slowly, “Do you ever think about having kids?”  
  
Harry started visibly, stopping short where he was walking in the snow. Draco wondered for a second if he shouldn’t have brought it up, but then Harry continued walking again, this time reaching out to take Draco’s hand.  
  
“Yes,” he said. “Do you?”  
  
Draco shrugged. “Every so often. But I’m not sure if it’s the idea of children that I like or if it’s Teddy I like having around.”  
  
Harry chuckled.  
  
“What’s so funny?” Draco snapped indignantly.  
  
“You  _miss_  him,” Harry grinned. “Isn’t that sweet?”  
  
Draco was, once again, considering hexing his fiancé. “Shut up.”  
  
Harry smiled. “Tell you what.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Let’s get married, go on our honeymoon, and spend a while just being happy,” Harry said. “And then, after that, we can think about maybe adopting.”  
  
Draco smiled. Harry always knew exactly what to say. Well, not always – he tended to mess up simple conversations – but when it mattered, at least.  
  
“Alright,” Draco relented. “By the way, Potter...”  
  
Harry registered the use of his surname and cocked an eyebrow. “What?”  
  
Draco grinned. “Payback time,” he smirked. With that, he tackled Harry to the snow.  
  
“Hey!” Harry exclaimed.  
  
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco drawled. “You deserve this.” With that, he pressed his lips to Harry’s, and they spent the rest of their morning kissing and chasing each other around. A few people who passed looked at them oddly – two grown men playing around in the snow, they must have made quite a sight. Not that Draco or Harry cared, though. As far as they were concerned, they had all the time in the world to act like kids.  
  
 _To be continued..._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco always got a little nervous when he and Harry went to stay at the Manor for their usual weekend before Christmas. His mother was insistent on it and his father never protested, but Draco was usually exasperated by the second hour of their visit. By then, Harry had usually done something thoughtless or said something that wasn’t generally accepted by his parents, and Draco would give him the silent treatment for another hour until he apologised profusely and offered fantastic make-up sex.  
  
That was another problem about staying at your parents’, though. How did you have sex? It was just awkward and difficult, even with Silencing Charms. The few times he and Harry  _had_  snuck in a bit of time for more intimate activities, Draco felt as though his mother’s scanning eyes had spotted the evidence on him the second they stepped out of their room.  
  
“Relax, Draco,” Harry soothed him as they heaved their trunks off the floor and prepared to Apparate to the Malfoy Manor. “I’m the one who should be on edge, not you. Your mother always looks like she wants to murder me.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “My mother loves you in her own odd way,” he replied. “The only problem she has with you is that I’m engaged to you.”  
  
“Fantastic,” Harry said. When he saw Draco still stiff, he sighed and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be alright. I promise not to act like an idiot.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s something you can help,” Draco responded.  
  
Harry punched him in the arm playfully. Draco made himself lighten up. It was only for a few days, after all. They’d make it, somehow.  
  
About ten minutes later, they arrived at the grand gates of the Manor. Draco’s mother was waiting for them in the garden.  
  
“Dragon,” she said gravely as they approached. “You look well since I’ve last seen you. Your job is going well?”  
  
“Mother,” Draco replied. “It is, thank you.” Draco’s mother had a very difficult time adjusting to Draco’s choice of occupation, especially since he possessed high degrees in other more respectable professions. "Good morning, Harry," she said kindly.  
  
"Good morning, Narcissa," Harry responded. Narcissa had given him permission to use her first name before, and Harry was clearly more comfortable using it.  
  
"Your father cannot wait to see you," Narcissa added to Draco.  
  
"How is he?" Draco asked. He tried to hide the sad, worried tone in his voice, but Harry must have picked up on it, because he was suddenly holding Draco's hand.  
  
Narcissa's eyes flicked once to their joined hands before she returned her gaze to Draco. "He's well enough to insist that you wait for him below the stairs for him to greet you.”  
  
Draco tried to smile. "That's good, I suppose."  
  
Narcissa led the way into the house. Draco noted the resounding silence echoing around the halls as they entered and wondered why the quiet which had once soothed him now felt foreign and empty.  
  
"Woah," Harry exclaimed suddenly, causing Draco to look up. His sight was greeted by a large Christmas tree in front of the grand golden staircase. It was huge and nearly touched the high ceiling, and was adorned with gold lights and red ribbons and other beautiful things.  
  
Narcissa had gone up the staircase, probably to get Lucius, while Draco and Harry were staring at the tree, enraptured. Now that they were alone, Harry spoke more freely. "It's beautiful," he noted. "Slightly intimidating, too."  
  
"The house elves did a lovely job," Draco conceded.  
  
"I don't think this was set up by house elves," Harry stated.  
  
"What do you mean?" Draco questioned.  
  
Harry smiled, pointing to a branch about halfway up the tree which had two ornaments fitted haphazardly onto it - one an angel, the other a snake in a Christmas hat. "They argued over the ornaments, too," he chuckled.  
  
Draco couldn't help his lips twitching upwards slightly, although he had half a mind to say that Harry was just being a romantic idiot. Draco's father could barely walk, after all. How would they put an entire tree together?  
  
There was the sound of footsteps, heavy and uneven, descending the staircase. Draco and Harry looked up in unison, and Draco felt as though something was wrenching his heart right out of his chest when he saw his father coming down the stairs, half-supported by Narcissa. He was using his cane, and Draco found it ironic that Lucius had once used the cane as a symbol of his power and now it only showed how unwell he was.  
  
“Draco,” Lucius murmured as he reached the foot of the stairs.   
  
“Father,” Draco responded. It took everything in him not to run forward and throw his arms around Lucius, but he had to stop himself. It wasn’t proper for him to let his emotions run away with him.  
  
“Harry,” Lucius added, his gaze fixing itself on Harry.  
  
“Good morning, sir,” Harry said. Draco smiled a little when he heard the almost inaudible tremor in Harry’s voice. While Harry had never been frightened of Lucius when he was younger, he was now extremely nervous around him, especially since Lucius had taken longer than Narcissa to adjust to their relationship, going as far as to outright disapprove of it in the beginning. He’d eventually accepted it after that one time Harry spoke to him in private for about two hours. He’d never told Draco what they talked about, but it must have been pretty impressive if Lucius allowed Harry to date Draco, with his blessing, after that.  
  
Draco glanced over at his mother. Narcissa’s eyes were fixed on Lucius, and there was a soft tenderness in them that Draco almost never saw there, but was familiar all the same. He tried to figure out why for a second, and then he understood. The way she looked at her husband was the same way Harry looked at Draco.  
  
“Get settled in,” Narcissa ordered. “We’ll have tea ready in the kitchen when you feel like it.”  
  
“Thanks, Mother,” Draco smiled. Harry nodded courteously, and the pair of them lifted their trunks and started walking up the golden staircase.  
  
“You know what, Harry?” Draco asked once they were out of earshot.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I reckon you’re right.”  
  
Harry gaped at him. “Draco Malfoy just admitted that I’m right about something?” he gasped. “I should record that and sell the tape for a million Galleons!”  
  
“Shut up,” Draco snapped.  
  
“Fine,” Harry grinned. “What am I right about?”  
  
“The tree,” Draco said. “I think they did argue over the ornaments.”  
  
Harry smiled, taking Draco’s hand again, and they fell into comfortable silence.  
  
 _To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco stared, for several long moments, at the new additions to the Manor sitting room that had most certainly not been there last time.  
  
“Mother,” he said, after a minute or so of frowning as he perused the two unfamiliar creatures lounging in front of the hearth. “What are those supposed to be?”  
  
Narcissa glanced up from the book she was reading and gave her son an appraising stare. “Dogs, Dragon,” she responded. “Labrador retrievers.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. His mother knew exactly what he was talking about, yet chose to answer as if she didn’t. Harry had often told Draco that he’d inherited this particular trait from her. “I’m aware,” Draco stated. “Why are they here?”  
  
“Because your father and I have taken a liking to them,” Narcissa replied.  
  
Lucius looked up from his own book. “Indeed we have. They are quite agreeable companions.”  
  
“When did you get them?” Draco asked, his eyes fixed on the two dogs. They were large and appeared to be comfortable in each others presence as they lay curled together, dozing, by the warmth of the fire, but they were both extremely different. One was female and had golden fur while the other was male and had a coat of pitch black. The former seemed friendlier and more naturally curious – it had lifted its large head and was looking at Draco intently, tail already starting to wag. The other had given Draco the briefest of glances before settling back into sleep once more.  
  
“Their names are Light,” Narcissa said, referring to the yellow one, “And Shadow.” She gestured to the black one.  
  
Draco knew that if Harry had been in the same room, he would have rolled his eyes at the choice of names. Draco quite liked them, though. “Are they siblings?”  
  
“No,” Narcissa responded. “We originally only planned to purchase Light, but she refused to leave Shadow behind.” She smiled fondly. “Inseparable, those two,” she noted. “Despite their differences.”  
  
“You romanticise them,” Lucius commented, sounding annoyed, although Draco caught the slightest hint of a smile flash across his father’s face.  
  
Narcissa gave him a haughty glance. “I find that it’s wonderful how two creatures with completely different backgrounds, temperaments and personalities can come together and learn to love and rely on each other. You simply refuse to admit that you consider it an equally touching representation of unconditional love.”  
  
The door swung open then, and all three Malfoys turned towards it to see Harry walking in. “Afternoon,” he said.  
  
Lucius cast a glance between Harry and Draco, then at the two dogs. An odd look crossed over his face and he returned instantly to his book. Narcissa nodded in acknowledgement of Harry’s greeting before raising a knowing eyebrow at Draco and returning to her reading as well.  
  
Draco felt his cheeks starting to grow red and pointedly looked away from his parents, Harry and the dogs in favour of staring at a spot in the wall and pretending to find it extremely interesting.   
  
Harry stared at all of them. “What?”  
  
 _To be continued..._


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No time to read through this, so sorry for any mistakes! Feel free to point out any errors.   
> **Prompt Used:**

The Malfoy family had always consisted of extremely proper gentlemen and ladies with traditions, rules and Pureblood rituals that they abided by and followed no matter what. Draco, too, had lived by these traditions, and had been taught at a young age proper manners and etiquette that he’d been only too glad to ignore as soon as he was out of his parents’ sight. Take, for example, the idea of dressing for dinner and sitting around the dining table in suit and tie, eating while your mind was on the correct way to place your napkin or calling as politely as you could across the table for the salt. Draco had been glad to completely ignore this rule as soon as he left Hogwarts, and when he and Harry were at home, they tended to eat in front of the television that Draco had come to enjoy, and if they did take meals at their table just outside the kitchen, they’d never be fully dressed in formal attire anyway.  
  
Still, Draco resigned himself, when they stayed at the Manor once a year, to forcing Harry into a suit and attempting to get him through dinner without earning a disapproving stare from Narcissa. It was a difficult task, as Harry sometimes spoke too loudly or forgot to ask for the pepper properly or completely ignored his napkin. At times, he dropped his food somewhere that wasn’t his mouth or his plate, and Draco always felt like hiding his face in his hands when that happened. Luckily, Narcissa’s rebuke was restrained to looks of disdain before she resumed the conversation casually, but Lucius often couldn’t help pointing it out. Draco didn’t blame them. It wasn’t that they hadn’t learned to accept Harry and the flaws that came with him, it was just that Harry’s table etiquette was absolutely nothing like what they were used to and they couldn’t help feeling startled and disgusted by it at times. Draco felt sorry for Harry, really. He made such an effort but never seemed to get it right. Still, Draco thought he looked really good in a suit, so he let most of Harry’s mistakes slide and stuck to admiring him properly dressed.  
  
The day before, dinner hadn’t gone very well. Harry had dropped his cutlery somewhere under the table and dived down to get it. It had taken him a good two minutes to resurface, and by then, Draco wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or finally get around to hexing Harry. Lucius had sighed long-sufferingly, giving Draco a look that clearly said  _This is who you’re going to marry?_  while Narcissa looked torn between amusement and disdain. When Draco first wrote them to inform them that he and Harry were engaged, they probably hadn’t anticipated Harry still being a little hopeless at remembering the difference between dining with proud Purebloods and gobbling down a meal in the comforts of his own home. Manners were very important to the Malfoys.  
  
Which is why, when Narcissa suggested they eat dinner in front of the fireplace that evening, Draco nearly spat out his tea.  
  
“Pardon, Mother?” he asked, trying to keep from spluttering.  
  
“I’ve asked the house elves to prepare a lovely meal,” she said. “And I wondered if we might have it by the hearth instead of in the dining room. What do you think, Lucius?”  
  
Lucius didn’t look at all approving, but Draco knew from experience that he almost never denied Narcissa anything, and that was how they found themselves seated around a short little coffee table in the sitting room in full dinner attire that evening. If Draco thought sitting at a long glass-and-marble dining table in a suit was difficult, he took it all back – there was nothing more awkward than being in formal wear around a fire and eating a feast too grand to be eaten by hand but, in this position, a little difficult to be eaten with knife and fork.  
  
Harry, seated next to Draco as usual, looked extraordinarily uncomfortable, and Draco was really sorry – really, he was. He was just having a little difficulty tearing his eyes off of Harry in his suit with his messy hair and stupid glasses. He’d apologise when he was done gawking.  
  
Draco realised his mistake a moment later – it was different when you were huddled around a small table and a large expanse of black granite that extended across a dining hall. Your parents could see every adoring look you gave your fiancé here, and Lucius was currently watching Draco with an extremely annoyed expression on his face. Whoops.   
  
After several minutes of forcibly polite conversation, Harry stood up and did something that made Draco gasp in a mixture of shock and horror – he took off his coat and threw it on the couch, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his collar.  
  
“Mr. Potter!” Lucius exclaimed. “What are you doing?”  
  
Harry sighed, heaving his camera up from the sofa. “In all due respect, sir, this is rather ridiculous,” he said. “The point of having a fireside dinner is to have  _fun_ , not to be bound by rules.”  
  
Draco privately agreed with him, but now was probably not the best time to say so, especially since Lucius looked both offended and bemused.  
  
“Also, I’m no good at wearing suits and it’s really rather hot in here,” Harry added. “If you don’t mind, sir, I’m going to get comfortable and try to enjoy the rest of my meal properly.”  
  
There was the longest silence, during which Harry sat back down and resumed eating as though nothing had happened. Then Draco, heart beating hard in his chest, deftly unbuttoned his jacked and shed it, dropping it onto the floor beside him. Harry reached under the table and gave his hand a squeeze. Draco’s fingers were trembling too hard for him to squeeze back, but he was sure Harry understood.  
  
And then, Draco’s father, the most uptight Pureblood in the entire history of the Malfoy family, sighed, unbuttoned his coat, muttered something about kids and their antics, and pulled his jacked off.   
  
And then Narcissa started laughing. Lucius and Draco turned to stare at her in bewilderment as she threw her head back, locks of hair in the neat bun atop her head falling lose as she did so, and laughed so hard Draco started worrying for her sanity.  
  
But then Lucius started laughing, too, slowly. It started with the faintest hint of a smile, and then a low chuckle or two, and then he was laughing just as hard as his wife was.   
  
Draco grinned weakly and Harry did the same, both of them still holding hands under the table. They glanced at each other, and Draco knew they were both thanking Merlin, Godric, Salazar and everyone else for their good fortune.  
  
Draco wouldn’t have known it then, of course, but he kept the picture that Harry decided to take of Lucius and Narcissa laughing together at their side of the table over their dinner for many years. It was the happiest he had ever seen his parents. He also realised, when Harry showed him the picture later that night, that Harry was not only the best thing that had ever happened to him, but to his entire family, as well.  
  
Draco also realised that night that as much as he loved seeing Harry in a suit, seeing him with his tie askew and several buttons undone at the top of his shirt was probably one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.  
  
 _To be continued..._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

One of the things Draco loved the most about the Manor was its large garden. It was always teeming with gorgeous vegetation and was an excellent hiding place, as he’d learned as a child. He’d spent majority of his time in the gardens when he was growing up, spending long hours sat under a tree reading or escaping in search of solitude and a place to think amongst the trees (especially the cherry ones, which were his favourite). When Voldemort had taken residence at the Manor, Draco had stayed in the garden a lot, sometime crying and sometimes sitting thoughtfully on the ground for as long as he could get away with it. Even though he only returned to the Manor once a year now, he made a point of sneaking out in the early hours of the morning just to walk around his favourite place and become reacquainted with it. The garden was and had always been his sanctuary, and he’d never gone for walks there or visited it with any of his friends. It was the only thing of his kept sacred, and he valued it immensely.   
  
Which was why it was a huge decision for him to decide to bring Harry along with him on this evening walk. He was unusually quiet as they started from the front door, which made Harry glance worriedly at him a few times. But Harry knew better, by now, than to ask questions. He was aware that he’d find out what was on Draco’s mind soon enough.  
  
Draco swung back the gate that led to the garden and led the way in. He could feel Harry’s eyes fixed cautiously on him and tried not to look too vulnerable.   
  
“It’s beautiful,” Harry said after a moment.   
  
Draco smiled. Even when he had no idea what the fuck was going on, Harry always managed, when it mattered, to say the right thing. “Isn’t it?” Draco asked rhetorically before carrying on in. He walked purposefully to his favourite spot in the garden; the place where he’d read all his books and cried his heart out and meditated in silence.   
  
The cherry tree that Draco remembered was heavily laden with fruit, which was odd for this time of year, but was also completely covered in ice. Each cherry was encased with frozen water and appeared like little rubies in the centre of crystals and diamonds. “I used to come here all the time,” Draco mused. “It was my quiet place. No one could ever find me, here. I was careful to make sure no one found out that I loved it here so much.”  
  
Harry chuckled quietly, and Draco turned to glance at him quizzically. “It figures that you’d like this tree,” he said by means of explanation. “It’s just like you.”  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.  
  
Harry smiled and reached up to touch one of the ice-covered cherries. “Well, first of all, it’s beautiful,” he said, which earned him a roll of eyes from Draco before he continued, more seriously, “But that’s not all.” He paused and rubbed the fruit in his hand, to melt the ice surrounding it. “It appears cold and unwelcoming on the outside, and it’s rather frosty to the touch, the first time,” he murmured. “But there, beneath that illusion of ice and grandeur, lies a warm, brightly-coloured, delicious treat. It’s barely even hidden – in fact, it’s in plain sight – but no one bothers to pay much attention to it because they can’t see the wonders of the lovely fruit inside.” Harry managed to pluck the fruit off of the tree and smiled as he handed it over to Draco.   
  
Draco laughed, taking a bite of the cherry. It was cold on his tongue, but there was no denying the sweet, lovely taste of the fruit. “You’re ridiculous,” Draco said fondly.  
  
“And lucky,” Harry said very seriously. “Lucky to have been the one to discover you.”  
  
Draco knew his cheeks were probably turning red, and it had nothing to do with the cold. “You’re a sap,” he accused for the umpteenth time since the beginning of their relationship.  
  
“ _Your_  sap,” Harry grinned. Then he smiled, his eyes turning soft. “Thank you,” he said quietly.   
  
Draco didn’t need to ask him what for. He felt relief, and some other emotion much warmer, flood through him when he realised that he never had anything to fear about sharing this garden with Harry. Harry always understood. He always knew. He’d take care of Draco.  
  
“I love you,” Draco said. He almost never did, but he needed Harry to hear it now.  
  
“I love you, too,” Harry replied.  
  
They made some more memories under that tree, of laughter and love and a lot of things, and Draco had more reasons to add to his list of why the garden was his favourite place in the Manor.  
  
 _To be continued…_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Although the previous’ nights dinner had been lovely and unusual, the next morning at breakfast they were back to sitting around the table. Harry had already spilled his coffee, so Draco had already lost all hope of a normal, quiet, peaceful breakfast long before there was a sound of high-pitched barking.  
  
“What is that?” Draco asked.  
  
“A dog, I expect,” Narcissa replied.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, which was a very rude thing to do at the table, because his mother had once more chosen to ignore the real question. “I’m aware,” he replied. “I meant, who? Light and Shadow sound far older than that.”  
  
“You didn’t tell them?” Lucius questioned from behind his morning paper.  
  
“Tell us what?” Harry piped up, too curious to pay much attention to his prior embarrassment involving his now brown-stained, formerly white shirt.  
  
“Light and Shadow had a litter,” Narcissa explained shortly, not even looking up from her eggs.  
  
Draco stared at her for a few moments. “You mean…puppies?”  
  
“I should worry if they were anything else,” Narcissa stated.  
  
Harry snorted improperly through his mouthful of pancake. Draco shot him a glare.  
  
“I was meaning to ask you about that, actually, son,” Lucius said from the head of the table, putting his paper down. “There are six of those things –”  
  
“They’re  _puppies_ ,” Narcissa said firmly. “Not  _things_.”  
  
Lucius heaved a long-suffering sigh. “There are six of those  _puppies_  running amok in the halls and your mother refuses to part with any of them.”  
  
“I simply don’t believe that they would receive proper care anywhere else,” Narcissa responded, straightening her back and looking ready to strike. Draco hoped his father would know better than to challenge her further.  
  
“Perhaps Draco and Harry wouldn’t mind taking one off our hands,” Lucius said coolly.  
  
Draco buried his face in his hands, another very rude thing for him to do at the table, but not before shooting Harry an apologetic look. When his parents went into debates, they rarely stopped before Draco had to leave the house to escape the noise.  
  
“They’ve barely gotten engaged,” Narcissa informed her husband. “Give them some time to themselves.”  
  
“We can’t keep all of them forever,” Lucius argued. “They’ll grow to be just as large as Light or Shadow. Eight dogs! I don’t think we could manage. And what if they have offspring of their own?”  
  
“You know you love them just as much as I do,” Narcissa responded easily. She looked completely unfazed by the entire conversation, and Draco wondered how she managed to do it. “When that time comes we can give them away, but as pups, they require the utmost care.”  
  
“Draco will be able to provide one of them with that care,” Lucius retaliated. “I don’t see why we cannot part with one of them.”  
  
“We can part with one a few months after Dragon and Harry have been married,” Narcissa responded. “Your need to get rid of the puppies immediately is really rather amusing.”  
  
“It isn’t so much a need as a –”  
  
Draco forced himself to speak as politely as possible. “Father. Mother.”  
  
The pair glanced once at their son before falling silent and attacking their breakfast once more. The subject wasn’t brought up again. Draco chanced a look at Harry and saw a thoughtful expression etched onto his face.  
  
A few hours later, the four of them were in the sitting room when the door burst open under Light and Shadow’s combined weight and six little fluffy puppies tumbled into the room, yapping and wagging their tails excitedly.  
  
“For Salazar’s sake,” Lucius muttered as one of the little dogs went stumbling awkwardly into the Christmas tree. “See, Narcissa, this is exactly why –”  
  
Draco tuned them out, focusing his attention on the young creatures instead. They were already beginning to wreck havoc – one speckled pup was wrestling with another and sending a neat stack of newspapers flying askew, and a black one was digging under the carpet for untold treasures, and a golden one was in the middle of untying a present under the Christmas tree.  
  
“Gold, that’s my present for Narcissa!” Lucius exclaimed indignantly.  
  
“That isn’t Gold,” Narcissa told him. “That’s Kreacher.”  
  
“You named a puppy after a house elf?” Draco spluttered.  
  
“Your father did,” Narcissa sighed.  
  
“We were running out of names,” Lucius drawled.  
  
Kreacher, meanwhile, had abandoned the present and was bounding up to Harry, who had his camera up to his eye and was snapping shots of the over-eager pups. Draco had to admit, they were really rather cute. He wouldn’t be willing to part with any of them either, if he had one.   
  
Yap! Kreacher made a searching little noise. Really, it was unfair for such an adorable thing to be forced to have a name associated with something not particularly pleasing to the eye, but that was really the unfairness of certain situations. Realistically, what on earth did Draco have in common with a dragon? He was certain Harry would come up with a shite-filled answer for that one – something about being all warm inside or appearing frightening and well-armored but having fiery passion within or some similar crap like that. Harry was good at coming up with those.  
  
Yap! Kreacher made the noise again, just sitting in front of Harry. Harry lowered his camera, placing it on his lap, and leaned down off the sofa to rub the gold labrador behind the ears. Its wagging tail moved faster as it closed its eyes, enjoying the attention.  
  
“That one seems to like you,” Narcissa noted.  
  
Draco couldn’t help agreeing.   
  
“Excellent,” Lucius said. “Take him off our hands whenever you wish, please.”  
  
He and Harry’s eyes met for the briefest of moments, and Draco read some sort of longing there. Draco gave him assent with the tiniest of nods that he hoped was imperceptible to his parents.  
  
Harry looked up at Lucius and smiled. “We’ll take him.”  
  
 _To be continued…_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Although Draco had spent a large portion of the past few days complaining about Harry’s manners – or lack thereof – and dreading the eventual loss of his own sanity, he found that he was going to quite miss the Manor this time around. Maybe it was the fact that Draco would miss the garden, or maybe it was the fact that they were bringing home a labrador named Kreacher, or perhaps it was because Harry brought out the best in both him and his family. He wasn’t certain which was the real reason, or if it was a combination of all, but suffice to say that when he hugged and kissed his mother goodbye, he did so with a much heavier heart than he expected.  
  
“I’ll miss this place,” Draco realised suddenly, as they were walking away from the gate.  
  
“It’s understandable, as it’s your family you’re leaving behind there,” Harry informed him.  
  
The concept seemed vague in Draco’s mind. Sure, he loved his parents very, very much, but for the past few years he hadn’t felt particularly sorry after leaving them. This was the first time he wished he could have stayed longer.  
  
“Want to take a trip to the garden one more time?” Harry asked.  
  
Draco smiled. He hadn’t realised that was exactly what he needed right now. “Please,” he said, and with their puppy in tow, they started towards it.  
  
As they entered the gate to the gardens, Draco noticed something he hadn’t before – the top of the gate was completely covered in icicles that hung low over their heads. On a whim, he reached up and touched one of them. It was colder than he’d imagined it to be – they looked so much like crystals – and felt fragile in his grip. He could break it right now with the slightest twist of his wrist. Or, the icicle could fall off and knock him on the head and kill him. Either way, really. He should probably drop his parents a line about clearing up those hanging bits of ice before someone got hurt.  
  
Draco briefly remembered Harry comparing him to ice-covered cherry trees and snorted aloud. He wasn’t like those things in the slightest – he felt more like an icicle, really.  
  
Kreacher barked sharply and Draco broke out of his thoughts and shook his head. This was ridiculous. Harry must have turned him into an actual Hufflepuff female adolescent.  
  
“You know,” Harry said suddenly, “Icicles are formed when the weather’s freezing but the sun is out. The sun melts the snow on top of the gate but the temperature turns it to ice before it falls off. When the water drop freezes, it lets out a bit of heat.”   
  
“When did you get so intelligent?” Draco smirked.  
  
Harry shrugged, laughing a little. “Must be from hanging around you. Anyway, I’m not going to make any metaphors for fear that you’ll hex my brain out, but I think the message is pretty clear in itself. Whatever the case, these icicles are beautiful and I’m going to photograph them.”  
  
Draco stepped back and allowed Harry to work, feeling immensely grateful that Harry knew and understood him so well. How had he ever gotten so lucky?  
  
Kreacher tugged at his lead, trying to run off and explore the garden.  
  
“Tut, tut,” Draco said in a lightly scolding tone. “Heal, boy. We’re going to have to train you before you become as uncivilized as Potter.”  
  
“I heard that!” Harry snapped.  
  
Draco chuckled, and heading on to his favourite tree, he figured that this was probably the best holiday he’d spent at the Manor, ever.  
  
 _To be continued…_


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains extremely cheesy pick up lines, dirty talk and drunk blowjobs in a bathroom. You have been warned. Also, although there is no actual sex, this chapter implies both bottom!Harry _and_ bottom!Draco, which means they switch behind the scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco didn’t know how Harry had convinced him go out for alcoholic beverages with Weasley and Granger all night, but somehow, he’d managed to do it, and that was why they were here in this Muggle bar ordering drinks that were neither strong enough nor tasteful enough for Draco’s palette.  
  
“Are those elftinis?” Draco demanded when two glasses filled with red and green drink respectively and decorated with peppermint candy canes were set down on the table in front of them. “Seriously, Potter? You have stooped to the lowest form of mundane –”  
  
“Hey, I like them,” Granger cut in.   
  
Draco sighed and waved a hand in assent.   
  
Harry laughed. “Which one would you like?” he grinned. “Or need I ask?”  
  
To everyone’s (even his own) surprise, Draco reached across the table and grabbed the red one and took a large gulp. The taste of grenadine and peppermint schnapps flooded his senses. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but it was worth the shocked look everyone was giving him.  
  
Harry smiled and picked up the remaining glass which contained the emerald green concoction.  
  
“At least it matches your eyes,” Draco smirked.  
  
Harry rolled aforementioned eyes. “At least yours matches your temper.”  
  
Draco chuckled. “Cheers,” he said, and they clinked their glasses together before taking swigs.  
  
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Weasley muttered darkly. Draco ignored him.  
  
An hour or so later, Draco was feeling more than a little tipsy and Harry was definitely at least a little intoxicated. It was easy to tell, because while Draco was quite a good drinker, Harry often made a lot of advances on him in public when he had drunk too much alcohol. The first time Draco had spent a night in a bar with Harry, the latter had used at least twenty ridiculous and annoyingly adorable pick-up lines on him. Although Draco secretly enjoyed it, he made a mental note to keep Harry in check when they drank with his “proper” Slytherin friends or if they planned to have a lot of wine at a family event.  
  
Tonight was no different, and Harry wasn’t even that drunk yet.  
  
“If you were a Dementor, I’d become a criminal just to get your kiss,” Harry said, a little too loudly.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow.  
  
“And if you were a basilisk, I wouldn’t mind dying just to look into your eyes,” Harry added.  
  
Draco laughed, a little uncomfortably, as Weasley mimed barfing on the floor. “That’s awfully kind,” Draco smirked. “Now, Harry –”  
  
“If you were a Quidditch player, you’d definitely be a Keeper,” Harry interrupted.  
  
“That one was pretty lame, mate,” Weasley said as he downed another elftini in one gulp. The action earned him a glare from Granger.  
  
“I’m not wearing an invisibility cloak, but could I still visit your restricted section tonight?” Harry went on, peering at Draco over his glasses.  
  
Draco felt his cheeks flush scarlet. Granger looked mildly shocked and Weasley had turned maroon.  
  
“Too much, Harry,” Draco drawled as calmly as he could, though he knew he was blushing furiously.   
  
“Did someone just say Avada Kedavra?” Harry continued, ignoring Draco’s protests.  
  
“Harry…”  
  
“Come on, ask me why,” Harry grinned.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine. Why?”  
  
“‘Cause you’re drop dead gorgeous.”  
  
Granger started laughing at that. Draco gave her a hard glare.  
  
“Your smile’s like an  _Expelliarmus_ ,” Harry said. “Wanna know why?”  
  
“No, but I don’t think I can stop you from telling me anyway.”  
  
“It’s simple, but disarming.”  
  
At that point, Weasley, who had been sipping another elftini, choked on his drink and spluttered the green liquid all over Draco’s shirt.  
  
“Ronald!” Granger shouted, sounding reproachful. “That shirt looks expensive!”  
  
“It is,” Draco said regretfully. Not only was it white, it was also one of his favourites, because the first time he’d worn it in front of Harry, Harry had ravished him in the front hall of their house and Draco had been grievously late for work. Not that he minded. “I’m going to go clean this up,” he sighed, waving away Weasley’s fervent apologies. “I’ll be back. Don’t let him do anything too stupid,” he added to Granger, gesturing at Harry. She huffed and turned her attentive eye on her new charge.  
  
Draco stepped into the men’s room at the back of the bar. It was empty, which was good, because Draco didn’t feel like drenching the front of his shirt with anyone else watching. He turned the sink on, and heaving a resigned sigh, started to try to wash away the greenish stains tainting his once-pristine attire.  
  
He’d only just begun his efforts when the door creaked open, and seconds later, a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind in a very familiar way.  
  
“Want to make some magic together?” a husky voice whispered in Draco’s ear. “My wand is at the ready.”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Potter…” Draco sighed, spun around and shoved Harry off of him lightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to clean up the mess your idiot friend made of my shirt. Keep your pick-up lines to yourself.”  
  
“Come on,” Harry grinned. “I’ve been whomping my willow thinking about you.”  
  
“No need to get crude here, Potter,” Draco responded, continuing to deal with his shirt even as Harry licked the shell of his ear, eliciting a shudder from him. “At least keep those horrible things classy.”  
  
“Did you just say  _Wingardium Leviosa_?” Harry continued, now sucking a spot on the back of Draco’s neck.  
  
“No I did not,” Draco replied.  
  
“Odd, ‘cause you’ve got me rising,” Harry chuckled. Draco felt his hot breath ghost across his skin and shivered again. “Figures, though. You don’t even have to say  _Lumos_  to turn me on.” Harry pressed his body flush against Draco’s, and Draco realised that his fiancé was, indeed, aroused, as a certain hardness pressed into the back of his thigh.  
  
“Really, Potter?” Draco asked incredulously. “Have you no sense of control?”  
  
“You know what that shirt does to me,” Harry accused. “And now you’re soaking wet in it. You can hardly blame me.”  
  
Draco smirked. “I suppose not.” He spun around. “Since I’m clearly to blame in this situation,” he began, meeting Harry’s gaze unflinchingly, “How do you propose I make up for it?”  
  
Harry’s pupils were blown wide with lust, only a thin ring of green remaining around them as he wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck. “I don’t know, Malfoy,” he teased. “Why don’t you come tame my dragon?”  
  
The groan Draco had just started to let out at the downright awful line was cut off when Harry pressed his lips hungrily against Draco’s, effectively cutting off anything Draco might have wanted to say. Draco felt his own cock twitch and begin to fill as Harry ground his hips shamelessly against Draco’s. Salazar, the things Harry did to him when he acted all wanton like this…  
  
Draco grabbed Harry and manhandled him into the nearest bathroom stall, closing the door behind them and bolting it securely. No sooner had he done this when Harry was attacking his neck again, probably leaving more marks that Draco was going to mad about later.  
  
“How long have you been hard?” Draco asked, reaching between them to rub his hand against Harry’s groin.   
  
“For half an hour… _fuck_ ,” Harry moaned, bucking his hips upwards into that sinful touch.  
  
“Been thinking about me since then, hmm?” Draco smirked. Dirty talk wasn’t really something they did often, but when Harry was drunk, a few sinful words whispered in his ear was often enough to get him off. He deftly unbuttoned Harry’s trousers and shoved them off his hips. “Been thinking about what it would be like to have my cock in your greedy arse, thinking about what it would be like for me to bend you over every available surface and take you?” Draco questioned. Another novelty of being in a relationship with Harry was that Harry turned extremely submissive when he was drunk, so Draco got a chance, every once in a while, to be on top. He didn’t often admit it, but he liked having Harry begging for him, at his mercy.  
  
“Yes, fuck,” Harry gasped.  
  
Draco smirked cockily and slipped his hand into Harry’s boxers, wrapping his hand around the throbbing shaft. He took his time, fisting Harry slowly and running his thumb over the head every few strokes. Harry whined at the pace, jerking his hips forward and trying to get Draco to move faster.  
  
“You’re so hard for me,” Draco murmured in Harry’s ear. Harry mewled, clutching at Draco’s back helplessly and canting his hips forward again. “When we get home later, I’m going to strip you slowly and take my time exploring every single inch of your skin until you’re writhing and whimpering and desperate for it. Would you like that? Do you want me to make you beg for it?”  
  
“Oh Merlin, Draco, please…”  
  
Draco swallowed, trying to restrain himself. Salazar, Harry looked so gorgeous when he pleaded like that, and Draco was hard as a rock. There was no way he was going to be able to draw this out much longer. Without further ado, he dropped to his knees, pulled Harry’s boxers down and took his leaking cock into his mouth.  
  
Harry gasped, crying out, as Draco concentrated on sucking, bobbing his head up and down and running his tongue in patterns along the underside of Harry’s shaft.  
  
There was the sound of the front bathroom door being opened and footsteps moved towards them. The stall next to theirs was moved into and there was the sound of a lock sliding home.  
  
Draco pulled off Harry briefly, put his finger to his lips in warning, and then engulfed Harry’s cock in his mouth again. Harry’s head fell back, thudding against the wall, and his lips fell open in a silent scream seconds before he shoved his fist into his mouth to quiet himself. Draco continued what he was doing, applying the right amount of suction and pulling back to wrap his lips around the head of Harry’s achingly hard cock. He glanced up at Harry and saw him biting down on his knuckles so hard Draco feared they might bleed.  
  
There was the sound of a flush being pulled, then the sound of footsteps moving towards the sink. The water was turned on.   
  
Harry looked a complete mess. His hair was in more disarray than usual and his glasses were askew, plus he was sweating profusely and his lips were bloodied from where he’d bitten down on them to keep from making noise. It was a gorgeous display to watch. He could feel Harry getting close as he very gently grazed his teeth along his prick, and he reached down to palm his own erection, attempting to relieve the pressure.  
  
Then, just as the footsteps outside began to move away, Draco used one of his hands to trace a circle around Harry’s hole, and Harry couldn’t help it – he keened loudly, arched his back and came with a cry of Draco’s name.  
  
Draco swallowed down as much of Harry’s release as he could, keeping his eyes trained on Harry’s face the entire time. Harry was breathtaking when lost in the throes of desire, with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open and his breaths coming out short. The sheer sight, combined with the sound of Draco’s name falling from those gorgeous lips, drove Draco right over the edge and he came, mostly untouched, in his pants.  
  
The footsteps outside paused, then hurried away.  
  
Draco moved up, supporting Harry’s weight as he came down from his high.  
  
“That was fantastic,” Harry grinned.   
  
“It was, wasn’t it?” Draco replied with a smug smirk.  
  
“I must have had some Felix Felicis, because I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” Harry sighed.  
  
“That’s the afterglow talking,” Draco warned him. “Dangerous things, those.”  
  
“Seriously, though,” Harry said. “I need a pensieve because my head is filled with thoughts of you and I can’t hold them in anymore.”  
  
Draco smiled. “That was actually rather sweet.”  
  
Harry laughed, then added, “I don’t need the mirror of Erised to know that you’re everything I desire.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment.”  
  
“You must be a Snitch, because I’ve been seeking for you my whole life,” Harry went on.   
  
“Potter,” Draco warned.  
  
“You could enter my Chamber of Secrets any day.”  
  
Draco growled, pinning Harry back against the wall in one smooth move. “Potter,” he hissed, “If you don’t shut up right now, I promise that I’m going to bring us home right now, tie you up, and tease you, leaving you right on the edge for hours just to listen to you beg. And then I’m going to coax orgasm after orgasm out of you until you pass out from sheer pleasure.”  
  
Harry shuddered, then, in a final act of defiance, looked Draco right in the eyes and said, “Since I’m a Seeker and you’re a Snitch, would you let me catch you?”  
  
Draco snarled low in his throat and grabbed Harry by the arms, Disapparating them both out of there and back home, where he fulfilled every single one of his promises.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some angst in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

It was snowing outside. Raining, too.   
  
It turned out that Kreacher didn’t quite like the cold, or the sound of the drizzling drops falling against the windows, where a candle burned. Water slipped down the panes where the candle had heated it. Kreacher huddled against Draco, half-shivering, half-whining, and Draco absentmindedly stroked his golden fur to calm him, but there wasn’t any way he would be able to successfully do so unless he was calm, himself.  
  
He and Harry had just been through an argument, and Draco was really upset about it. It started when Draco and Harry had sat down to lunch with Pansy, Theodore and Blaise revealed their engagement. None of his three pals had taken it very well. Blaise had been alright, Draco supposed. He’d just casually mentioned that if Harry screwed up he wouldn’t live to see the next day, and Harry had taken that solemnly in stride the way he always did. Pansy and Theo, however, had been nothing short of furious.  
  
“Stop being so stupid, Dray!” Pansy had shouted. “We hoped you would eventually come to your senses and dump this Gryffindor, not get married to him!”  
  
“Don’t you see he’s using you?” Theo had supplied. “You don’t honestly think he’d want anything to do with out lot, do you?”  
  
Eventually, Theo had stormed off in a huff and Pansy had turned her chair away and refused to speak for the rest of the meal. Blaise had glanced at Draco and shrugged before returning to his tea.  
  
When Draco and Harry did leave the restaurant, Harry had been in a bit of a sulky mood and muttered something about Slytherins being difficult. Draco, in turn, had snapped at him and demanded to know what made  _his_  friends so special.   
  
 _“You think it’s so easy, don’t you? All you do is strut around and all your friends accept everything about you!”  
  
“That isn’t what I meant –”  
  
“And how am I supposed to know that my friends aren’t right, hmm? How am I supposed to know that you aren’t exactly as they say? How am I supposed to know that they’re just seeing something I can’t see?”  
  
“Draco –”  
  
“Gryffindors are so easy. You think everything’s so bloody simple. You’ve forgotten what you did to me in the past. How do you expect my friends to accept you?”  
  
“I wasn’t –”  
  
“Sometimes I don’t know why the fuck they even bother with you. Sometimes I wonder why _I  _even bother with you!”_  
  
  
  
Draco really regretted saying those things, needless to say. He and Harry rarely had any actual serious arguments, but when they did, it was usually Draco who said the wrong thing first. Harry was usually gentler, more careful. He didn’t want to hurt Draco in any way, and Draco didn’t want to hurt him either, but sometimes his mouth ran away with him, and…  
  
Draco heaved a sigh, trying not to allow any of the tears beginning to well in his eyes to spill over. It was his fault. It was his fault Harry had walked out and slammed the door behind him. He kicked the wall in his irritation. Kreacher jumped in surprise, barking quietly in protest.  
  
In apology, Draco scooped Kreacher up onto his lap on the sofa and stroked his fur. Harry had only been gone for an hour, but Salazar, Draco already missed him so much. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about it anymore.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Draco.”  
  
Draco jerked awake. His head was throbbing and he felt extremely groggy, and he was frankly certain that he had at least three dreams involving Harry leaving in different ways. The candle by the window had burned out.  
  
“Draco.”  
  
Draco glanced up. His eyes widened when he saw Harry hovering above him on the sofa.  
  
“Harry,” Draco breathed. He knew his voice was flooded with relief, but he didn’t really care about hiding anything right now. He hurried to stand up, wanting desperately to throw his arms around Harry but not sure if he should.  
  
“Draco,” repeated Harry, and Draco couldn’t quite take it anymore. He wrapped Harry in a tight, possibly bone-crushing hug, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder and just breathing him in.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Draco murmured.   
  
Harry pulled away, smiling gently. “Pardon?”  
  
Despite himself, Draco couldn’t help smiling back. “I’m not saying it again, you git,” he said, even though he could already feel a tear escaping the corner of his eye.   
  
“I love you,” Draco whispered after a moment. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Thought you weren’t going to say it again.”  
  
Draco punched Harry’s shoulder lightly. “Will you stop making me laugh? I’m trying to  _apologise_ , you prick!” He was actually, legitimately crying now, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck, because Harry was here, Harry forgave him, Harry wasn’t leaving…  
  
Harry leaned down to catch Draco’s tears with light, gentle kisses. “It’s alright,” Harry murmured. “I love you, too. I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much of an arrogant sod you are.”  
  
Draco smiled. He knew he had a lot to make up for. “I’m so glad,” he breathed, before pulling Harry down into a proper kiss.  
  
And then they made up some more.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco still felt bad about being an idiot the previous day. Harry clearly forgave him wholeheartedly, but Draco knew that they still had to talk about it. The fact that two of Draco’s closest friends didn’t approve of his and Harry’s engagement would take a toll on them if they didn’t hash it out now.  
  
Harry was working late today, and Draco had finished his last bit of work early, and he returned to a house empty aside from little puppy Kreacher, who yapped excitedly at Draco’s return.   
  
Now Draco wasn’t by any means a romantic person. He’d grudgingly sprung a few sweet surprises on Harry over the past few years, but he’d never gone all out with ribbons and candles and flower petals – that was more Harry’s thing. But since Draco  _had_  been a bit of a git – alright,  _a lot_  of a git – he was going to make up for it...somehow.  
  
Which was why, two hours later, Harry came home to find their living room with the lights dimmed, several scented candles lit, and two vases of flowers resting on the table. The Christmas tree was fully lit up and there was a fire going in the hearth, and Kreacher was lounging easily nearby. There were also two plates and two wine glasses set on another table.  
  
“Draco?” Harry called, and Draco shyly glanced up from the sofa where he was seated. He’d spent the past hour or so making sure everything was absolutely perfect. For some odd reason, he felt nervous.  
  
“I’m here,” he murmured.  
  
Harry turned towards him, and Draco’s heart skipped one or two beats when he realised that his fiancé was smiling at him, that same softness in his eyes. “Did you do this?” he asked, gesturing to the lovely room around them.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “No, of course not, Potter. Kreacher set up the room and cooked you dinner.”  
  
Harry laughed. “There’s my Draco,” he grinned. “For a second, I wasn’t sure where you’d gone. I mean, candles? Flowers? And is that classical music playing in the background?” Draco scowled at him. Harry laughed again and strode over to Draco, tugging him up off the sofa and catching him securely in his arms. “What’s all this for?” he asked.  
  
Draco tried not to blush, condemning his pale complexion for making it very obvious every time Harry managed to bring colour to his cheeks. “I just...it’s an apology. And we need to have an actual talk about Pansy and Theo.”  
  
Harry nodded seriously, looking around the room again before returning his attention to Draco. Perhaps he managed to see the little bit of worry playing in Draco’s eyes, because he smiled very gently. “I love it,” he said. “It’s wonderful.”   
  
Draco exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Harry captured Draco’s lips tenderly in his own for a short moment, and suddenly, Draco just knew they were going to be alright.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Draco hadn’t meant to find the necklace. Really, he hadn’t. But Harry kept his drawers so bloody messy and Harry  _knew_ that Draco couldn’t stand the mess and wouldn’t be able to resist tidying up a little bit. Draco was also fairly certain that Harry should have wrapped all his goddamned presents by now instead of leaving them casually stuffed under a bunch of mismatched socks for anyone to discover.  
  
The second Draco saw it, he knew it was for him. He tried to cover the necklace back up and pretend he hadn’t found it, but now that he had seen it, he could hardly resist, and ended up picking the transparent box up out of the drawer and cradling it in his lap.  
  
The necklace was one of an elegant silver dragon, fangs bared, as one of its claws rested upon a circular emerald that twinkled in the low light of the evening. It was beautiful and lovely, but that wasn’t all. It was an exact replica of one that had been broken during the war.  
  
Draco had told Harry, several months ago, that after he was sorted into Slytherin, his mother had given him a necklace with a dragon and emerald on it. It had served as Draco’s comfort and he never took it off – except in the bath, of course, because he wouldn’t want the silver to get tarnished – and often times found himself clutching it tightly when he was upset or troubled, especially when he was younger. When Draco had received the Dark Mark, the necklace served as a reminder of who he was and where he loyalties lay, even though he often felt less like a dragon and more like a frightened ferret. Not that he’d ever admit that.  
  
Then, sometime in the midst of the fighting during the War, a spell had hit Draco in the chest and the necklace shattered.  
  
Draco had shown Harry a picture of himself with the necklace hanging outside of his shirt when he was about thirteen years old and on summer holiday with his family. Harry had somehow managed to purchase a necklace almost identical to the one Draco had lost. It was thoughtful and sweet and Draco was trying not to start tearing up like some teenaged girl. All the same, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from hugging Harry and planting kisses all over his face as soon as he got home, even if he managed to make himself put the necklace back where he’d found it.  
  
“Someone’s been naughty.”  
  
Draco leaped at least a foot in the air (in a very dignified manner, of course) and spun around to see Harry standing at the door to their bedroom, a Slytherin-like smirk on his lips.  
  
“Harry!” Draco exclaimed, trying to shove the box with the necklace in it under a pillow, although rationally, he knew there was no point in that. Harry might have been standing there for one minute or five minutes or even thirty and Draco had been too wrapped up in happiness to notice. “I didn’t hear you come in!”  
  
“I can see that. Peeking under the wrapping early, hmm?” Harry teased, stalking over to Draco.  
  
“It wasn’t even wrapped,” Draco sniffed. “It was hidden under a bundle of socks.”  
  
“That hardly matters,” Harry said. “Anyway, do you like it?”  
  
Draco smiled as reservedly as he could, trying desperately not to act too excited. “Of course, it’s really lovely. Thank you.”  
  
“Oh?” Harry questioned, quirking an eyebrow and grinning, clearly seeing right through Draco’s faked nonchalance. Damn it.  
  
“Yes,” Draco continued. “It’s very beautiful and –” He broke off, shaking his head. “Sod it,” he muttered, and he ran across the room and threw his arms around Harry. “I love it,” he said, and proceeded to press kisses to every area of Harry’s face he could reach, the same way he told himself he wouldn’t just a few minutes ago.  
  
Harry laughed. “I’m glad you do. Still, you’ve been naughty, haven’t you?” he whispered.  
  
Draco shuddered. “I suppose I have. How could I ever make it up to you?”  
  
“You could do me a tattoo for free.”  
  
Draco pulled away, surprised by Harry’s statement. “What?”  
  
Harry smiled. “I’ve wanted one for a long time now, but I only want you to do it. I even have the design I want in my bag somewhere.”  
  
Draco sighed. “Alright, you git. I’ll do a tattoo for you, on the house, as long as you tip me well.”  
  
Harry laughed. “Certainly. But before that, I’m going to have to punish you a little for being so naughty, right?”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, although he knew they were darkening with the promise of what was to come. “If you must.”  
  
With that assent given, Harry tackled Draco onto the bed. _  
_


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**
> 
>  

“Are you sure about this?” Draco asked, brows knitted warily as he surveyed Harry, who was lying on his side, shirtless, on Draco’s tattoo parlour reclining chair.  
  
Harry gave him a confident smile. “Very,” he assured.  
  
“This is a huge tattoo you want, Harry,” Draco reminded him. “It’s going to take forever, even with magic, and it’s going to hurt like a bitch. And this design is so intricate, I might screw –”  
  
“No you won’t,” Harry said firmly. “You’re the best tattoo artist around, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my fiancé. Besides, you’re the only person who I trust enough to do this.”  
  
“Yes, but –”  
  
Harry tugged Draco down by the collar (Draco would get mad at him later for crumpling his shirt, but right now he was too worried to care) and leaned up slightly, cutting him off with a quick kiss. “But nothing. Come on, remember that big tip I promised you? You aren’t going to get it if you don’t put that tattoo on me right now.”  
  
Draco sighed, pulling away. “I suppose I’ll do it. For the tip.”  
  
“You’ll do anything with the right initiative,” Harry teased.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, picked up his needle and wand, and set to work.  


 

* * *

  
  
It was finished. It had taken forever, and Draco’s hands ached even as beads of perspiration dripped from his forehead and he set down his wand. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and surveyed his work of art.  
  
The phoenix Harry had requested covered his entire side, although it was sure to stretch its feathers and move around after it had settled in to Harry’s skin properly. Its plumage was bright orange and looked regal against the tan of Harry’s torso, and each intricate detail was clearly visible as it twitched and vibrated with slight energy. Draco couldn’t wait to see it move.  
  
It looked rather brilliant, if he did say so himself. It made Harry look even more exquisite than he had before, and that was saying something. It also made Draco’s trousers tighten just a little.  
  
Harry arched his neck to look at the tattoo, and a smile stretched across his lips. “Wow. That’s incredible.”  
  
“Isn’t it?” Draco smirked smugly.  
  
Harry chuckled. “Well you’re confident all of a sudden.”  
  
Draco turned his chin up in defiance. “I’m  _always_  confident, Potter. Now how about that tip?”  
  
Harry made to sit up, then groaned, settling back down in the chair. “Maybe later. You’re right about one thing – it hurts like a bitch.”  
  
Draco chuckled. “I’ll get a Soothing Salve,” he said, walking over to his cupboards and reaching for it. “Besides, I can think of a few ways for me to receive my payment without you moving a muscle.”  
  
Harry visibly shivered. “You’re amorous all of a sudden, demanding tips.”  
  
“What can I say?” Draco responded as he paced back towards Harry, holding the salve aloft. “The tattoo’s hot.”  
  
Harry laughed. “Should’ve got it ages ago, if I knew this was how you’d react.”  
  
Draco scowled at him before gently pressing some salve onto the tattooed area with cloth. The phoenix stretched its feathers slightly, spreading its wings, and Draco swallowed nervously, his mind already travelling down other, slightly less innocent paths. He reached out to stroke the tattoo with his bare fingers, applying the salve with them.  
  
Harry exhaled sharply and shuddered.  
  
“Feel good?” Draco asked.  
  
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
Draco smiled, then reached over towards the zipper of Harry’s jeans. “I think, Potter,” he said cockily, “It’s time for me to take my payment.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Christmas dinner at the Weasleys' had always been a complicated, chaotic, disorderly, noisy, almost nonsensical ordeal. It drove Draco nearly mad each year as he attempted to tell the redheaded brothers apart and recall the names of every single little Weasley spawn, or the spouses. They bred like rabbits, really, and although Draco secretly adored the little freckled children, he couldn’t tell Victoire from Roxanne or Hugo from Louis.  
   
“Hey Draco! How you doing? Congrats on the engagement!”  
   
“Thanks, George…I mean, Charlie –”  
   
“Merry Christmas, Uncle Draco!”  
   
“Why thank you, Dominique…err…no, I mean Lucy –”  
   
“Hey, Draco, haven’t seen you in forever!”  
   
“Oh Angelina! Long time no –”  
   
“It’s Audrey.”  
   
“Salazar, I’m sorry, I meant – I – excuse me, I have to go to the restroom.”  
   
Draco hurried away, escaping to the corner of the room. He needed to find Harry now before he hopelessly embarrassed himself. Draco really did make an effort to remember all the names, honestly, but being an only child and having almost no relatives that his family was on good terms with made it difficult for him to put names to faces. Especially extremely similar-looking faces.  
   
Before he could find a mop of messy black hair above the sea of ginger, Draco was hijacked again.  
   
“Well good evening, Draco,” another Weasley said, reaching out to shake Draco’s hand. He was the only Weasley with glasses, which meant Draco should really remember him, but his mind drew a blank.  
   
“Oh, hello, umm –”  
   
“Hey, Percy!” The only Weasley who Draco would recognise from a mile away came over, thankfully naming his brother with ease. “Mom wants you in the kitchen.”  
   
Percy, as he was apparently named, nodded solemnly and dutifully and marched off.  
   
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He’d never been more grateful in his entire life. “Thanks, Weasley.”  
   
“No problem,” Weasley responded. “I’d better stick with you from now on if I want you to stop mixing up my family. Come on, dinner’s almost ready…”  
   
Just then, Draco spotted Harry standing across the room, talking to the Weaselette, and instantly felt his skin start to prickle uncomfortably. He knew it was irrational, especially since Harry was one hundred percent true to him, but he'd never become accustomed to seeing Harry speaking to Ginevra. The girl was strong, attractive, intelligent, brave...  
Draco wasn't blind. He knew Harry should have ended up with her. How Harry ended up wanting Draco instead was beyond Draco. All he knew was he'd gotten extremely lucky, and he wasn't about to question his luck.  
  
Weasley followed Draco's eye and frowned. "Look, Malfoy, I have no idea why, but Harry really...err...loves you. And I prefer him having you around than picturing him snogging my sister."  
  
Malfoy had to think over that twice before he dared to believe that Weasley had said it.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Malfoy," Weasley said awkwardly.  
  
Malfoy couldn't help smiling a little. "Merry Christmas, Weasley."  
  
"Come on now, gather around!" Mrs. Weasley called. "Dinner's served! Arthur, where are you...?"  
   
As they sat down around a beautifully laid table prepared specially by Mrs. Weasley, some of George's enchanted mistletoe came floating in the room and stopped precisely above Harry and Ginevra's heads. The pair laughed as all eyes fell on them, and Ginevra used a flick of her wand to send the mistletoe swooping over to rest above Draco. Before Draco could process this, Harry had crossed the distance between them and kissed him.   
Draco felt his knees grow weak and his head spun long before get registered the catcalls.  
  
"Get a room!" someone, probably George himself, said, and everyone laughed.  
  
When the attention shifted away from them and to the food being Levitated over to the table, Harry chuckled. "You were jealous," he said lightly. It wasn't a question.  
  
Draco huffed. "Absolutely not. I have nothing to be jealous of. You're mine."  
  
Harry smiled, his expression softening. "I'm yours," he agreed.  
  
Weasley coughed. "I'm sorry, but if both of you don't stop those lovey-dovey looks I'm going to throw up."  
  
Draco was spared from replying by Granger. "At least Harry knows what romance is," she muttered.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Weasley spluttered.  
  
Draco and Harry laughed quietly, joining hands under the table. When things got overwhelming for Draco, who could never get used to this amount of chatter, spilledfood and crude jokes, Harry acted as an anchor. Draco was fine as long as Harry was with him.  
  
Besides, Draco wouldn't trade a Weasley Christmas dinner for anything in the world. Not that he would ever admit that, of course.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt Used:**

Being blindfolded wasn’t on Draco’s list of things he enjoyed, whether in bed or out of it. Having a sense removed made him feel especially vulnerable. During the War, when Voldie and his goons were staying at the Manor, Draco had been constantly on edge, and even having all his senses with him hadn’t been nearly enough to keep him safe.  
  
The only reason Draco was allowing himself to be blindfolded was because it was Harry who was blindfolding him. If anyone but Harry had suggested it, he would have hexed that unfortunate soul and run about five miles away. But it was Harry, and Harry insisted that he had a Christmas surprise waiting for Draco and that he  _had_  to be blindfolded for a few minutes.  
  
“This big gift really isn’t necessary, Harry,” Draco had said, slightly panicked. “I mean, all I got you for Christmas was a new broom and a Snitch –”  
  
“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Harry had assured him as he tied the black cloth over Draco’s eyes. “I won’t leave you. Promise. Do you want your surprise or not?”  
  
And that was how Draco found himself standing somewhere, out in the open snow, flakes falling against his clothes and face.  
  
“I demand to know where we are, Potter!” Draco exclaimed, his arms stretched out blindly in front of him like one of those zombies Harry liked watching in Muggle horror movies.  
  
Harry had his hands clasped around Draco’s arm. “Patience, Malfoy. It’s a virtue.”  
  
Draco wanted to retort, but just then, a bird cawed in the distance. Draco started and drew closer to Harry.  
  
“I’ve got you,” Harry soothed, and Draco felt a kiss press gently against his cheek. “We’re here. I’m not sure if you’ll like this, and you mustn’t expect too much, but –”  
  
Draco grit his teeth. “Potter. Get. This. Damn. Thing. Off.  _Now_.”  
  
Harry hastened to obey, pulling the blindfold off quickly. Draco blinked at the harsh onslaught of light for a moment before his vision focused.  
  
They were standing on a large plot of snow-covered land. Trees with bare, spindly branches stretched out for yards in a neat row and neatly trimmed hedges were arranged in front of them. Draco looked around him, eyes wide. “Where are we?” he murmured. Harry didn’t respond, instead turning Draco around.  
  
And then there, directly in front of Draco, was a large, slightly aged, brick-made house. It was about half the size of the Manor, and considering how huge the Manor was, it was pretty impressive, standing tall and mighty, almost intimidating. A series of elegant white marble steps led up to the magnificent mansion, which had long glass windows in perfect arches that were shrouded slightly on the inside with light wisps of curtain. The path leading up to the steps had the bearings of being a beautiful garden-like path. Draco could imagine resplendent greenery sprouting up on either side in vibrant blues, yellows and reds, and he could just picture shining clusters of colour in the form of flowers gathered around in spring.  
  
“It isn’t much,” Harry was saying. Draco could barely hear him over the beating of his heart. “I just remember you saying that you missed the size of the Manor, being able to walk the halls and think in silence and stuff. I mean this isn’t nearly as big –”  
  
Draco started to walk up the staircase, smooth and solid beneath his feet, and the closer he got, the more detail he could see of the house. Vines hung low over the walls and entwined ivy snaked up the banisters of the staircase as his fingers brushed against them. From the staircase, he could see what looked like a garden on the side of the mansion, and an iron gate was wrought around it.  
  
Harry was still talking. “I know it’s old and needs a bit of fixing up, but I really wanted us to have our own house instead of renting. It’s got a lot of land for Kreacher and there’s a really nice garden, which I was hoping you could learn to love like the one in the Manor. It’s got a lot of space and a really big library and I’ll do the construction and whatever needs to be –”  
  
“You bought…my Christmas gift is…you bought me a house?” Draco gaped, scarcely able to believe it, or form coherent sentences.  
  
“I…well…yeah,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry if it’s not what you were expecting. I mean, I understand if you don’t –”  
  
Draco spun around and dashed towards Harry, flinging his arms around him and crushing his lips against Harry’s. Harry let out a surprised gasp and Draco took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry let out a pleased moan and wrapped his own arms around Draco’s waist, tugging him in closer.  
  
When Draco pulled away, Harry’s lips were swollen. Draco supposed his were the same. “Do you…like it?” Harry asked stupidly, blinking.  
  
“Like it?” Draco laughed. “I love it! Thank you, thank you…” He reached out to press their lips together again.  
  
Harry’s smile was so bright it was nearly blinding. Draco felt himself melt a little, despite the cold of the snow. “Wait till you see the inside,” Harry grinned.  
  
Draco nodded excitedly. “How many rooms are there?”  
  
“Bedrooms? Around eight or something.”  
  
“No, rooms in total. Studies, libraries, storerooms, cupboards, bathrooms. Everything.”  
  
“I dunno. Twenty, thirty, forty, I expect.”  
  
Draco smirked, pressing himself flush against Harry. “Oh, so many? What a pity. It’ll take us quite a while to christen every room.”  
  
Despite the cloudy day, Draco could clearly see Harry’s emerald green eyes darken. “If that’s the case, we should get started right away,” he said, his smile taking on a Slytherin-like quality.   
  
Draco interpreted the gleam in Harry’s gaze a second later. “Now hang on a minute, Potter, you are  _not_  going to carry me over the threshold like I’m a pitiful maiden –”  
  
Without further ceremony, Harry hoisted him up into his arms, laughing when Draco squirmed and demanded to be put down, and unlocked the door wandlessly, successfully carrying Draco over the threshold. Before Draco could complain further, Harry had him pushed up against the wall, their lips pressed together once more.  
  
“Don’t I get a tour first?” Draco gasped when he broke away for air.  
  
“Plenty of time for that later,” Harry said, licking and nipping a trail up the pale column of Draco’s throat. “The rest of our lives, in fact.”  
  
Draco couldn’t help feeling a little lighter at that. “The rest of our lives?” he murmured.  
  
Harry pulled away, smiling tenderly as he brushed some mussed hair away from Draco’s face. “And then forever.”  
  
“Sap,” Draco muttered.  
  
“Shut up,” Harry grinned.  
  
“Make me,” Draco hissed.  
  
Harry growled and crushed their lips together again, effectively silencing Draco. Not that Draco minded in the slightest, of course.  
  
Draco’s last fleeting thought was that the rest of their lives and then forever sounded just about perfect.  
  
 _The End_


End file.
